The Heart of War
by EJonna
Summary: Short Caryl-centric love story, also featuring Richonne and the Grimes family, post Saviors war. Carol goes missing during the early stages of war, sending Daryl on a mission to find her. What he discovers turns his world upside down in ways he never could have imagined.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Michonne smiled contently as she soaked in every drop of beauty that surrounded her. In her former life, she'd probably have been too busy to appreciate a moment like this for what it really was. It was one of those beautiful, early summer days where the weather was just perfect; not too hot, not too cold, and just the right mixture of blue sky and fluffy white clouds which provided for brief moments of relief from direct rays of sunlight. Just a few years ago, on a day like this one, she wouldn't have been happy unless she was heading out to Jekyl or St. Simon's Island with Mike for a weekend of fine dining, shopping, and soaking in some rays with her toes in the sand while her mother watched their son back home in Atlanta. If she had known then what she knew now, she would have chosen to spend the weekend at home with Andre, pushing him in a swing in the park while he laughed giddily, much like the way Judith was at the very moment, right here in her own back yard, each time the gentle push of her hands on the toddler girl's shoulders sent her soaring into the air, heels over head. Every other pass or so, Judith would throw her head back to get a glimpse of her and smile, and each time she did the one on her own face somehow managed to find the landscape to grow a little bit wider.

Just beyond the view of little sandaled feet suspended in mid-air were a pair of more work-minded individuals...at least for the most part. Carl and Enid were on their knees digging up potatoes in their household's own little mini-garden, although at times it appeared there was more dirt-slinging at each other than actual work going on. At that very moment, more dirt-slinging ensued, followed by some incoherent shouting, then the next thing she knew, Enid tackled Carl to the ground which resulted in the boy crying out in what she initially mistook to be pain until the two began rolling around in the soil giggling like, well...a bunch of teeneagers. When Carl turned his head and realized they were being watched, he tipped his hat to shield their faces, and the giggling ceased, likely because their lips had found something better to do.

Only a few months ago, it was a much different story here in Alexandria, or wherever they happened to be at the time, in the midst of the war against Negan and the Saviors. There was no time for distractions of any kind. Everyone had a responsibility to protect the community and every single one of them had learned the hard way already ,at some point, that when you didn't do your part, somebody died. Worst part yet, sometimes people died regardless of the fact that you did everything right-but those instances were drastically reduced when you actually had your shit together and you were on the ball.

There was a sort of unspoken rule as far as relationships go in the midst of war. Everything was downplayed and everyone knew this rule without having to have a formal discussion about it. Loved ones of a specific targeted person were in more danger than the target itself, and the two people in their community with the biggest targets on their back were undoubtedly Rick and Daryl. Negan had easily sniffed out Rick's clan, herself included, from the get-go, during the early stages before any of them had realized exactly what they were dealing with. With Daryl, it didn't become apparent to Negan that there was somebody special in his life until Carol vanished. Of course it didn't help that Daryl hand-fed Negan his feelings for Carol when he stormed into the Savior's compound on a rogue, solo-mission, balls blazing, demanding to learn her whereabouts with the preconceived notion that Negan was responsible. They lost Daryl again for a while when Negan promised Carol's safety in exchange for Daryl's full cooperation, only to find out in the end that Negan never had possession of her to begin with. To this day, Carol's whereabouts remains a mystery, the very reason why so does Daryl's.

I'm not coming home without her, so don't bother to come looking for me.

That was the admonition he had given herself and Rick just before revving up his bike and heading out into the darkness of the wee hours of the morning, roughly four months ago when the war had finally been declared over and victory was theirs. For a moment, she attributed the sound of Daryl's motorcycle disturbing the peace of the lazy summer day to the vividness of the memory of that day until she noticed that Carl's head also jerked away from his embrace with Enid abruptly, and she could actually see his ears twitch as they strained to hone in on whatever it was that he heard. She felt her own ears working hard to determine if what she thought she heard was actually what she was hearing, and as the noise grew stronger and closer, so did her instinct that she knew what and who was responsible for it. As Judith swung back toward her, she grabbed her around the waist and plucked her from the swing. The little girl looked slightly puzzled by her sudden displacement, but a quick peck on her forehead had eased any alarm the gesture might have caused. The sound of the bike continued to grow stronger to those outside, but went unheard to Rick, who was still hard at work inside and upstairs, painting Judith's remodeled bedroom with the cd player blaring.

"DAD! RICK!" The shouts came simultaneously from Carl, Enid, and Michonne as the trio raced toward the house. By the time they made it inside, Rick was heading down the stairs with guns in hand, not sure what in the hell to expect from the way they were screaming. By the time he reached the landing, the sound of the bike purring fizzled out right beyond their front door.

"Is that-"

"Daryl," Carl confirmed with a huge grin as his fingers made a discreet part through the curtains to investigate. Carl's grin, although still there, then appeared to take on a hint of disappointment. Michonne was pretty sure of the reason why before she opened the door to find Daryl there, climbing off his bike, alone.

"Oh man," Rick muttered quietly before racing out to welcome his "brother" back home.

Michonne felt her heart sink to her knees as she watched the two embrace. They were brothers from other mothers, but closer than any pair of blood-related ones she ever knew. The two, grown-ass tough guys were reduced to tears within seconds, with Carl and Michonne following closely behind. They too joined the huddle, along with Judith AKA Little Ass-Kicker, still perched in Michonne's arms, resulting in Daryl finding himself smack dab in the middle of a Grimes family lovefest.

"Yeah, I missed you guys too," Daryl replied in his perpetual cool-ass dude voice.

"It's good to have you back, brother. Now I'm just hoping to hear you're here to stay."

Rick always had a talent for subtly addressing whatever elephants or other creatures of awkwardness might be in the room, unlike herself who would have probably just ended up blurting out, "Well, did you find Carol or not," within the next minute or so.

"I told you I wouldn't be back home without her, man."

If Michonne hadn't been looking directly at Daryl when his response came, she would have thought for sure that meant "no." The glimmer in his eyes told her otherwise. Rick wasn't as swift to catch on.

"Come on, brother, you've been away from home a long time. Look, we all want find Carol and bring her back, but-"

Daryl interrupted him by repeating himself once again. "I told you I wouldn't be back home without her."

Rick took a step back as if to study him from a new angle. "What are you saying, man? Did-did you find her?"

Daryl nodded slowly to confirm. "Yeah. Yeah, I found her."

Michonne suddenly felt her chest growing tight as her heart began to race at an alarming speed. If Daryl found Carol, then why wasn't she here? She didn't doubt Daryl's ability to reason with Carol and bring her home one bit. Instinctively, she could only come up with one logical, and ultimately heartbreaking answer to the problem.

"Well, where is she," Rick asked as he began to crane his neck for a look around the perimeter, expecting to see Carol appearing from around one of the street corners.

"Not here," Daryl replied quickly, in effort to relieve Rick from his search efforts. "I came back alone because I need your help bringing her home."

"Why? Is she hurt," Michonne chimed in immediately, showing her eagerness for more information.

Before Michonne could even finish, or Daryl could respond for that matter, Rick had questions of his own. "Is she in trouble? Are we gonna have to fight? Does she not want to come home? What-?"

"Nah," Daryl shook his head dismissively. "None of that. It's a bit more complicated than that."

Michonne was growing more and more intrigued by the moment. There was something very peculiar about Daryl's responses, like he was deliberately trying to downplay whatever it was that was going on. If it were anyone other than Daryl, this behavior might have triggered an alarm. Vague explanations like the ones he was giving would have led her to believe they were being lured into some kind of trap, and with Negan still out there somewhere, that was a very possible scenario-if it had been anyone other than Daryl.

Well alright. Michonne and I will go with you. Carl," Rick began, nodding in son's direction as a cue,"you stay home with Judith. How far is it?"

"It's a few hours away. She settled into a community a lot like this one. Good people. They've taken good care of her."

"How long ago did you find her," Rick continued with his interrogation.

"Less than a month ago. I guess you could say she found me though."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a long story bro, and we got one long-ass ride so I'm gonna save this one for the road. C'mon, let's go."

Daryl turned toward the car to lead the way, and took advantage of that brief moment when his back was turned to Rick and Michonne to allow a smile to spread across his face. It was definitely going to be a challenge keeping his secret secure until they arrived at Riverview, but seeing the look of surprise on their faces was going to be well worth the wait, although he was pretty sure that no one could have been or looked more suprised than he was seeing Carol again himself for the first time in nearly eight months.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Roughly Ten Months Earlier

From the back of Daryl's bike with her head buried between his shoulder blades, Carol silently prayed for the spraying of bullets in their direction to finally come to an end. A surprise counter-attack by Negan and the Saviors had caught Rick's entire army off-guard, forcing them all to flee for cover in whatever direction it might appear they had the best chance of survival. For a moment she had thought she was a goner when a trio of heavily-armed Saviors had cornered her, but then Daryl swooped in on his motorcycle for the rescue, taking out all three with just three shots from a handgun. She had hopped on his bike behind him without hesitation, and took out as many Saviors as she possibly could while Daryl skillfully steered his bike through the crossfire until all their resources had been completely depleted. Just when the very thought that her prayers might be working crossed her mind, a spray of blood showered her face as Darly took a bullet in his left shoulder.

The shock to his system had nearly caused them to wipe out right then and there, but Daryl managed to right his bike before it could reach a debilitating angle, and just in time to find a path to open road where he was finally able to pick up speed and get out of Dodge before it was too late. Meanwhile, Carol immediately put her hands to work applying force to the wound, but the blood continued to flow with alarming pressure as it seeped through the cracks of her fingers.

"Daryl! You've got to pull over," she shouted into his ear, only to receive an adamant shake from his head in response.

"Nah, can't now. If we stop here, we're dead."

Of course she knew he was right, but she also knew that if he didn't stop soon, they'd probably both end up that way anyway. At the rate he was bleeding now, he wouldn't be able to go on much longer before passing out from a significant loss of blood. She needed to tend to his wound, and sooner rather than later. She tried to be patient by reassuring herself that he was smart enough to know when it was time to throw in the towel, but this was Daryl, and the Daryl that she knew was not thinking about his own safety right now, he was thinking of hers. It was this realization that caused a flicker in the perpetual light bulb hanging over her head.

"I've been hit too. We've got to find somewhere to pull off now or we're-"

At that point it was useless to finish her sentence. Daryl had pulled off to the side of the road and began slowly weaving into the woods, just until they were out of view from the main road. He then shut off the bike and attempted to climb off the seat, however in his weakened condition, he ended up nose-diving into the ground below him instead. At least he wouldn't be coherent enough to interrogate her about her fib until she already managed to patch him up. She grabbed the supplies she needed from his saddle bag, which were road-trip staples these days, and knelt down by his side to get to work. He stared up at her momentarily with glazed-over eyes which fixated on her bloody shoulder which he must have presumed to be her injury in his compromised state. His good arm began reaching out for her wound, and with a gentle grasp of his wrist, she lowered it back down to his side.

"Don't you worry about me," her calm, reassuring voice said soothingly. "Come on stud muffin, cooperate with me please and just roll over on your side."

Daryl complied obediently with what little strength he had left and Carol wasted no time in getting to the wound by cutting away the clothing prohibiting her access. Knowing she had little time to spare, she gave the needle-nose pliers the minimum acceptable amount of flame-sterilization she could afford, then unapologetically plunged the tongs into the wound and fished around until she came in contact with metal. The pain the intrusion caused resulted in Daryl passing out, but by the time the bullet was removed, thankfully completely intact, and she closed up his wound, he began to slowly drift back into consciousness.

Once she was certain he was going to be alright and not in need of any life-saving measures, she stripped his bike of all supplies, then led it to a nearby ditch, close enough where he would still be within her line of sight, laid it to rest on it's side, then did her best to conceal it with an assortment of branches and leaves. Her head jerked around when she heard some snapping of twigs, and her hand instinctively drew her knife from it's sheath. She had no idea who or what she was in need of warding off, but was relieved to discover it was merely a lone walker that was approaching her uncharacteristically defenseless Daryl. This particular one was a considerably decayed slow-mover, Which allowed her to take out the threat with plenty of time to spare.

"Carol Peletier, you're my hero," he mumbled, followed by a semi-delirious chuckle as his limbs flailed in the air like an infant who was trying to roll over on it's tummy for the first time. She shook her head and frowned with pity for her poor, sweet Daryl, who would be totally embarrassed while in his right mind to have anyone witness himself in this sort of state.

"Alright tough guy, come on," she said as she knelt beside his uninjured side. "Put your arm around me. I don't need you to stand up straight, we're just going to take a few steps backwards, ok?"

"OK," he mumbled with the same agreeability of a happy drunk and followed her instructions compliantly.

She backed herself against the trunk of a giant tree, which hosted a nice comfortable crook for her to nestle into for the next few hours or so, long enough for him to regain his strength enough to get back on his feet. She eased him back down into a resting position, straddling his body between her legs and coaxing him to lay on his good side with his head resting on a blanket spread across her stomach. From the bag of supplies at her side, she pulled a small container of freshly-squeezed orange juice she had packed in her bag at the Kingdom that morning in preparation for the attack, and raised it to his lips. She continued to provide the much-needed nourishment provided by the juice in manageable intervals until there wasn't a drop to be spared. Already his coloring had improved considerably, but he was still extremely lethargic, and as a result, drifted into a deep sleep soon after he had taken the last sip. For the next couple of hours, her fingers on one hand delicately twirled strands of his hair while her other hand soothingly stroked his back. All the while, she couldn't stop obsessing over what he said just before he drifted off.

" _I love you_."

She had become so entranced thinking about this near-deathbed confession that she hadn't heard the walker approach them from behind until it's rancid, gaping mouth was just inches from her throat. She was so startled that she actually began to hyperventilate, which resulted in Daryl being disrupted from his sleep. Carol still managed to react swiftly enough to distinguish the threat, but Daryl himself was on the ball with his knife drawn before he had fully opened his eyes.

"Hey, hey, you ok," he said as he pulled her into a strong embrace, hovering over her now from his knees.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I think I must have started dozing off there," she lied.

"Yeah, well it's definitely your turn to get some rest. You get yourself patched up ok? Com'ere, lemme have a look."

"I'm fine," she insisted as she batted his reaching arm away. "It just grazed me. It felt worse than it actually was."

"Lemme see," he insisted as his fingers began tugging at the buttoms holding her shirt closed.

"You can check me out when we get where we're going, but we have to move, now. Shortly before the walker, I thought I may have heard a vehicle. It seemed to have passed through without stopping, but I'm afraid there will be others to follow."

"Could be Rick, or some of our people looking for us," Daryl suggested hopefully.

"Or, it could be the Saviors looking to finish the job."

Daryl nodded understandingly. "A'ight. It's too dark to head back out on the road tonight. We look for a safe spot to settle down and spend the night, then head back tomorrow. Where's the bike?"

Carol responded by simply nodding in the direction of his concealed motorcycle. He acknowledged her with a single bob of his head, then re-armed himself with his trusty crossbow and scanned their surroundings thoroughly before making an educated decision about which direction to head out in.

They walked for well over an hour, making little conversation along the way apart from Daryl taking the time to explain that the higher uphill they went, the less likely they were to encounter walkers who were coordinationally challenged by their very nature. They were both exhausted, and Daryl was still in no shape to be exerting himself, but the couple of times she had suggested they stop and rest he had shot down her request with zero tolerance for argument. Then, without warning, he stopped dead in his tracks and reached out his arm to hinder her from advancing any further.

"Ssssh. You hear that?"

Carol instinctively listened for the sounds of human voices, gunfire, snapping limbs, vehicles, anything that might pose a threat to their safety which was why it took some time for her to identify the actual sound in question. Water. More specifically, falling water. The two exchanged a brief disbelieving glance before Daryl began to lead the way toward the potentially heavenly destination spot. It was hard to believe that on the other side of what appeared to be just a rocky section of mountain was a little slice of paradise. A modest waterfall steadily cascaded down the mountainside into a plunge pool below. The area was well-shaded, and appeared to bear no evidence that any squatters had ever attempted to set up camp there.

"Well, whadda you know," Daryl's lips mumbled just mere centimeters from her ear.

"It's breathtaking," she replied as she shook her head in awe over this much-missed opportunity to admire mother nature's gifts.

"Last one in's a rotten egg," Daryl teased as he brushed past her abruptly, and threw himself into the perfectly temperatured pool of water.

"Daryl," she cried out, running in after him, more concerned for his safety than for being the last to join in the fun. "You're still not one hundred percent, ok? A little bit of orange juice is not nearly enough to replenish what you've lost. You're still suceptible to-"

"I'm going to be fine, thanks to you," he said, with the intention of putting an end to the scolding he was receiving, but she was insistent on carrying on.

"-passing out. You could pass out, or god only knows what's in this water. Your wound-it could get infected-"

"Carol. It's going to be fine," he insisted firmly, but with that soft, soothing, yet slightly gruff voice that was reserved for use with her, and her alone. "Look," he requested as he peeled his shirt off and threw it poolside. "It's not even touching the water, so it's not going to get infected. If I pass out, I'm not going to drown, you know how I know why?"

"Why," she humored him by playing dumb, even though she knew very well what his response would be.

"Because you're here, and you would never let anything happen to me. Just like you faked taking a bullet just so I would pull over so you could take care of me. Am I right?"

She tilted her head up to meet his gaze as she nodded in response. Big mistake. His eyes locked in on her like some sci-fi-story-grade tractor beam, and before she knew it, their heads were on a collision course that she had no power or will to pull away from. The minute their lips met, she was so overwhelmed by a feeling of bliss she thought to be mere myth until experiencing it just then for herself that it moved her to tears. A momentary feeling of embarrassment for showing her vulnerability was almost instantly dismissed when he tightened his embrace around her, and his lips parted from hers just briefly enough to brush away the few tears that had managed to escape.

"Daryl-"

He kissed her again, this time with the intent of silencing her.

"Shhh, no words," he said as he shook his head from side to side. "No sense talkin' 'bout what we both already know."

She nodded understandingly, then entangled him within every limb of her body before delivering the most deliciously passionate kiss she never imagined could ever eminate from the likes of herself. Then again, she'd never in her entire life had a partner who had made her feel so cherished as Daryl did, nor had she ever felt so strongly for a man that she was willing to risk her own life for him, or that the thought of losing said man could completely destroy her, especially considering she had actually prayed for Ed to fall victim to an unfortunate accident on a daily basis.

She couldn't even remember making the transition from the water back to dry land, for the memory of what followed seemed to drown out the more insignificant details, which was basically everything else in the world but the two of them. There wasn't an inch of her body that his lips didn't explore, and by the end of the evening, they were both equally acquainted with each other's abilities to satisfy. As mind-blowing as their love-making was, the sweetest part was just lying in each other's arms afterwards, basking in the afterglow by the actual glow of a fire they had briefly took a break to start to keep them warm for the evening.

They had not spoken a single word to each other since Daryl had instructed her not to, and for a moment, Carol was still under the impression that they were indeed the only two people existing in this world, until she realized that the voice she just heard, telling her to "get up, bitch," was not Daryl, and the female one saying," That's right, loverboy, on your feet, NOW," sure in hell wasn't hers.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

With all of her bags now officially packed for the trip back home to Alexandria, Carol collapsed onto the foot of the bed, then proceeded to throw her back into the springy mattress beneath her as she let out a deep sigh of relief. She'd pretty much been running on nothing but fumes for the past three weeks and was looking forward to finishing up that last task on her to-do list so she could finally steal a few minutes for a little afternoon siesta. If Daryl managed to make it back with Rick and others in tow before sundown, then surely not a one of them would be getting much sleep this evening in lieu of catching up on everything that had transpired between now and the last time she had seen them.

Daryl had only been able to fill her in through the "end" of the war with the Saviors. They all used that term loosely she learned because Negan had managed to flee the scene after the last stand-off, and was never seen or heard from again. Through their various connections with other communities, including some that had joined Rick and their army after she had left, they were at least confident that the Saviors who survived were either no longer supportive of Negan, or intimidated by Rick enough to not pose any serious threat. Some had even pleaded to seek refuge in one of their sister communities, but all were turned away with the exception of one. A special counsel had been held right before Daryl left on whether or not to allow Dwight to become part of one of their communities. It was to be a group vote between all residents, but it had been unanimously decided by all that the call should be left up to Daryl and Maggie alone. Dwight had become one of the MVPs of the war, and between Daryl, Dwight, and Eugene all secretly working together from within the Savior's compound, they discovered the Achille's Heel which would lead to their downfall: there was a considerable amount of discord among Negan's top soldiers. Between the three of them interacting with those Saviors highest up on the chain-of-command, they had every one of Negan's right-hand guys, and the man with the bat himself, so psychologically fucked that no one knew who to trust anymore, resulting in every single one of their plans going haywire, and really, all they had to do was repeat to one what the other had been saying behind their back, with a few little extra white lies thrown on top for garnish. It was solely Dwight however that actually had opportunity to have verbal contact with Rick or one of his many confidants, and was therefore the one who was able to take what he knew and break it all down. It was because of this that it was ultimately decided he would be allowed to stay in the Kingdom. Although his assistance had been much appreciated by all, neither Maggie or Daryl cared to have to look at him on a daily basis.

Maggie. Carol smiled as she thought about her dear friend, just as she did every single day since she had left them all behind. Her baby would be here by now, and she absolutely could not wait to meet the little one. She often pondered, first of all if it was a he or a she, and secondly, what features did she steal from who. It was something that had always fascinated her, seeing the resemblances between family members. She remembered thinking right before she left how much Judith was beginning to resemble Lori in the eyes, and although she would never dream of bringing it up to Rick, it was her own personal belief based on the little girl's looks alone, that maybe he was wrong about her paternity after all. That little girl's sweet face was a Grimes face through and through.

And speaking of babies, this place was full of them. A nursery full of newborn ones, in fact, and right across the hall from where she bunked at night. Well, full considering that three out of three cribs in said nursery were currently occupied anyway. It was the first time since she'd arrived in Riverview that the nursery had actually reached capacity, leading to the discussion that two new cribs should be built to ready themselves for the next, "big baby boom." Typically there was ample time to prepare for new arrivals since most of their expectant mothers in this massive community came from within, but every few months or so a new expectant family that was referred to them would move in from the outside, sometimes with little time to spare before the baby was to arrive, forcing the staff to reevaluate the nursery capacity based on projected due dates. As a matter of fact, the third crib had only recently been added when she had been brought to them. Most times since she had taken up residence there, there would only be a single baby in the nursery at a time, but occasionally, and more recently, there would be two whose stay in the nursery itself might overlap by a day or so. And there was no predetermined time-limit on how long a baby could stay. The current occupants were born almost exactly a week apart each.

"Hey," a sweet, perky little blonde-haired girl with big blue eyes, almost eerily reminiscent of Beth, said cheerfully as she poked her head inside the door. "I know you're trying to relax, but believe it or not, Dena is in there delivering a baby right now and she needs my help. We had a brand new arrival who just barely made it through the gates. Do you mind tending to Larry, Moe, and Curly? It's about dinnertime."

"Of course not," she replied with the utmost sincerity and graciousness despite her extremely exhausted state, and effortlessly rose to her feet.

It hadn't taken those at Riverview long to recognize her strong motherly nature and as a result, once she had completely recouperated and was given a clean bill of health, with her consent, she was assigned to reside at Thornton house which housed the delivery room, nursery, and post-natal care facility, where new mothers and their families were welcome to stay for as long as they felt was necessary after the baby was born. Additionally, already established families and individuals alike were invited to attend an assortment of classes provided throughout the week in a variety of subjects pertaining to basic healthcare, nutrition, first aid, and survival. They lived in a different world now, and although Riverview was known for their large percentage of professionally trained medical staff, their main goal was to educate the community on how to treat as many medical conditions as possible right from their own homes, and the families bringing new children into the world were their primary focus. Carol had spent the last 4 months sharing her survival skills and assisting with the care of the infants, both in and out of the nursery. Most of the time, the babies would remain in the same room as the family as soon as possible after delivery, but for babies who were born a tad bit early, or whose mothers were recouperating from c-sections, or those who just needed a little extra tlc, stayed in the nursery. Sadly, on occasion, there were babies whose mommies didn't make it and had no other family living in the community, and that baby would remain there until he or she was placed with a family. One of the aforementioned Three Stooges was one such child, but thankfully they had already found him a suitable home.

That was baby "Moe" although it was merely a nickname bestowed upon him and the other two babies by Dena, who was the resident bonafide obstetrician, since all three were little boys. His was the first crib that she visited, simply out of fairness since he happened to be the one singing for his supper the loudest. "Larry" was also putting in his order from the menu when thankfully, his mother arrived in time to take over the duty herself.

"Hey, Carol, I'm so sorry I'm late," Ashley, who was "Larry", AKA Dakota's, mom, began apologetically as she scooped her crying son up from the crib. "Sarah is still not feeling a hundred percent, and she started pitching a fit about not being able to come visit her baby brother still."

"Awww, poor sweetheart," Carol said with a sympathetic frown. "I know how much she's been looking forward to this, but pneumonia is nothing to fool around with."

"Honestly, I think she's more upset about not getting to see you and Xander before you leave. I really want to thank you for letting her spend so much time with him. She really was not happy over the idea of having a baby in the family until you were able to show her how important a role being a big sister is. She's really going to miss the two of you."

"Well, you make sure she knows that we'll be back to visit, and that is a genuine pinky-swear."

"I really wish you weren't going so far," Ashley confessed as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Everyone is so bummed that you're leaving us, but we're all so happy that you and Daryl found each other again. Little Xan man is one lucky boy to have the two of you."

"Oh no, I think I am the lucky one," She murmered quietly as she stole a glance at her baby boy.

"Well, I'm going to take this one outside in the carriage for a bit of fresh air. If I don't see you later, then I'll just see you later I guess."

Carol elected to blow her a kiss instead of saying the dreaded goodbye, and just as Ashley was making her way out, another group of visitors made their way in.

"Hey, Jacinta, Dean! I suspect you're here to take this little guy home today," Carol cooed as she bounced little Moe around in her arms.

"We sure are," Meredith beamed as Carol carefully placed the now content baby into her arms.

"Well, that was perfect timing. He just finished his bottle so you guys should be good to go for a while."

"Oh, wonderful," Jacinta exclaimed before kissing the little boy on his forehead. "Thank you so much for everything, Carol. I know you had a lot to do with Dena choosing us to be Logan's parents. By the way, that's what we decided to name him- Logan. What do you think?"

"I think it's an adorable name for an adorable baby boy! And for the record, Dena thinks the world of you two. Believe me, she really does not have a huge stick up her ass at all times. I may have been the one to drop the suggestion, but she didn't flinch when I mentioned the two of you. We're all different people now, and that's something that I think most everyone has come to accept." True statement. So Dean used to be in a gang, so what? So what if he had a greater percentage of tattoos on his body than unmarked flesh? For as long as he'd been a part of the community, he spent every spare minute of his day mentoring the older children at the youth centers through sports and other activities, and he was well admired and respected by every single one of them, and their parents alike.

Jacinta nodded in agreement. "We're going to miss you. I hope you know how much everyone has grown to love you."

"Ditto," Dean added with a wink before Carol had a chance to react. "It's been great having you here. I'm sorry we never had the opportunity to work beside one another down at the center. I was aching to get you down there once things settled down for you."

Now it was Carol's turn to get misty, but no big surprise there since she was generally more emotional these days. "I'm going to miss you alltoo. And never say never. I'd love the opportunity to come back for an extended visit sometime."

"I think it's safe to speak for all by saying we would love that. Maybe one day you and the fam came come down for a few weeks and we can start teaching that Little Ass-Kicker of yours some football-throwing skills."

"Speaking of, I suppose we should let Logan say goodbye to his best buddy as well. Is he awake," Meredith inquired as she craned her neck to get a view at the last baby boy remaining in the crib.

"I think he is," Carol said giddily as she lifted the bald-headed baby "Curly," AKA Little Ass Kicker the second, AKA Xander, from his crib and carried him toward the little person who would forever be one of his oldest friends, to say, or at least wave by the assisance of her own hand, a proper farewell.

"Gosh, it's funny cuz the first time I actually got to meet Daryl and get a good look at him, I told my husband, I said, yup...I knew that was Daryl before Carol could even introduce us cuz that baby boy is the spittin' image of his daddy."

"He is," Carol remarked, smiling radiantly upon their beautiful son, Alexander Glenn Dixon, who was nestled comfortably in the crook of her arm. She could hardly wait to see Daryl and the others again and get started in writing this exciting new chapter in their lives.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Present Day

"So which one of us you s'pose is Miss Daisy," Daryl inquired sarcastically to Rick, in reference to Michonne playing chauffer, at her own insistence, to the two of them sitting side by side in the back seat of the Grimes family car to offer the "brothers" an opportunity for some quality time to play catch-up.

"OH, OH, that is DEFINITELY Rick," Michonne answered for them between bemused chuckles as she animatedly beat her fists on the steering wheel for effect.

Daryl couldn't help but bust out laughing in response to the genuinely wounded look on Rick's face.

"Wait a minute, are you trying to imply that I'M the stubborn one," Rick said as he adjusted himself until he was able to stare her in the eyes through use of the rearview mirror. "After I just spent two nights sleeping on the couch because you were mad that I ate the last brownie."

"Oh, no you don't! First of all, the contest of who is the better Miss Daisy is between the two of you, so don't go dragging me into this. Second- that wasn't just, 'the last brownie,' that was MY brownie. It's not like we have this perpetual pan of brownies sitting around on the counter on any given day. Daryl, listen to this shit OK, and tell me you would not have done the same. So Maggie comes to visit from Hilltop with two pans of freshly baked brownies. Now, we're not talking about ones that came from some old, dusty box of Betty Crocker mix now. These were the most amazing looking fudgy brownies, with this velvety chocolate icing and tons of chopped walnuts on top. By the time we divided them up between everyone, a two inch square was all one person got a piece. I wasn't feeling well so I wasn't ready to eat mine right away."

"It sat on the counter for THREE DAYS, and every time I offered it to you, you turned it down."

"Yeah, because I was throwing up non-stop for THREE DAYS."

"THREE DAYS," Rick repeated, this time turning his attention to Daryl. Shrugging his shoulders, he appealed his reasoning to his best bud, "It was going to go stale."

"You coulda put it in the freezer or somethin', just sayin'" Daryl replied matter-of-factly, leaving Rick with a dumbfounded look.

"THANK YOU, Daryl," Michonne exclaimed with satisfaction as she reached behind her with a closed fist, beckoning for a fist bump.

"I thought you were supposed to be my best friend, my brother" Rick said as he strained to conjure up fake tears and shot Daryl a look of mock disappointment.

"Hey, you took the woman's brownie. You're lucky she didn't put an arrow in your punk ass like I woulda done."

Michonne was now bent over the steering wheel, struggling with keeping her eyes on the road as she howled with laughter. Daryl, although considerably less animated than Michonne, began chuckling so hard both in reaction to her hysterics and Rick's look of utter disbelief that tears began to stream from the outer corners of his eyes and down his cheeks. Even minutes after the laughter had subsided, including a bit from Rick himself, the tears continued to come. He suspected the cause was that he was finally able to let go of several months of pent-up stress as the hell that had plagued his family over the course of the last few years finally seemed to be a thing of the past. At least for now. There was still no room for getting comfortable, or being naive enough to believe that they were invincible, or that they would never have to face another threat, but for the first time in a long time, he did finally believe that there was hope. If it wasn't for the help of a heck of a lot of good people in his quest to find Carol, he may never have found her at all. Heck, he might not have even made it out alive. Carol would never have found Riverview, and if she hadn't been taken to Riverview then she probably would have suffered exactly the same fate as Lori, aside from the fact that their son would not be so lucky as Judith. While he had been caught up in this little reverie of what- if's, Rick managed to sneak in the question that he had managed to successfully evade up until this point.

"So, come on man, tell us what's going on with Carol."

Thankfully, by his estimation it would be less than an hour before they would reach Riverview. Between distracting them with questions about life in Alexandria after he left and taking humorous jabs at Rick, more than half the journey had passed without him having to say a word about her. However, he was well aware that he was not the only one who loved her and worried sick over her safety and well-being since her disappearance, and that some sort of explanation for her extended family was long overdue.

"It was just like I told you. She didn't abandon us, bro."

Of course nobody had thought that from the start. When Carol had initially gone missing, everyone suspected the Saviors were to blame, and Daryl had made himself the ringleader of that belief, even though he had pretty much alienated himself from her since the day that Alexander was conceived and she almost died, and therefore their son right along with her although unbeknownst at the time, when he had irresposibly let down his guard. Not that he regretted making love to her for a second; that was a tricky thought to have to process considering the gift they had both been blessed with as a result, nevermind the fact that she was also both his best friend AND the love of his life. He failed her because he should have been smart enough to know that he didn't have the privelege of "laying down on the job," afterwards, so to speak. Somebody had to always be on guard, and he should have been strong enough for the both of them to step up and man the perimeter himself. Naturally, Carol put equal blame on herself, pointing out after-the-fact that it could have just as easily been him who had been put in death's hands on her conscience. The pair of them had been so overridden by their own personal versions of guilt that they'd barely spoken a decent word to each other for the two months or so that followed before she disappeared. Nevertheless, the thought never occurred to him that she had taken off because of his treatment of her, even though he was pretty sure the very last word he had grunted at her before she disappeared was "bitch." They were both playing the same hand, but while wearing two very different poker faces. His way of protecting her was to push her away by acting like a dickhead and pretending not to give a damn, while hers was simply giving him the cold shoulder and remaining non-reactive to the occasional barks he threw her way. The Carol he knew and loved always called him on his bullshit and was perefctly capable of tearing down any temporary wall he might try to hide behind. The fact that she was letting him get away with it was his way of identifying that this was just a little game that they both needed to continue to play to get through this war alive.

"Well if Negan didn't have her, what in the world happened?"

That was the same question he had asked himself repeatedly when he discovered he had been wrong. A thousand different scenarios had crossed his mind before he even dared to consider that she simply walked away. Her weapons had disappeared along with her, so it wasn't like some one had infiltrated Hilltop, where they just happened to be stationed at the time while preparing for the next attack, and snatched her up in the middle of the night. It was the general consensus at the time that she she had gone out on some rogue mission of her own and the Saviors captured her. He had continued to believe this even after Dwight had tried to warn him during his captivity that Negan, to the best of his knowledge, was lying about having Carol since not a single Savior he had interacted with aside from Negan himself could confirm that claim to be true. When the Saviors were defeated and she was still nowehere to be found, he considered she might have been taken out by a sniper right outside the Saviors compound, or perhaps by an unfortunate encounter with a walker, but she would never walk away. Not like this. Not when everyone she loved, her family, needed her more than ever. She would take a bullet to protect every single one of them...except for the one case where taking a bullet would cost two lives for the price of one.

Daryl couldn't share this much with Rick, not yet. Instead, he conjured up an all-encompassing response that was one hundred percent both true and accurate, any which way you sliced it. "She did what she had to do to protect her family." 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Roughly Ten Months Earlier, continued

"Stop fighting me, Daryl, or Amber over there is going to slit your little lady friend's throat. You wouldn't want that to happen now, would ya?"

One little yelp out of Carol was all it took for him to heed his burly captor's warning, and within a matter of seconds, he found himself pinned to the ground while the Vin Diesel lookalike dude he remembered from his previous stay in the Sanctuary cuffed his arms behind his back. He had to throw his head over his shoulder to try and survey Carol's situation, and found her locked in a battle of strength for the knife being held to her neck. The cry he had heard had come as a result of a small slit cut right into the flesh under her left ear, deep enough to where there was steady blood flow, but thankfully superficial enough to be non-life-threatening.

"This little granny-bitch thinks she's gonna overpower me I think. Honestly, Daryl, you could do so much better back at the Sanctuary. Matter of fact, I bet as long as you're on your best behavior, Negan may even be willing to share some of the little wifeys with you."

"Just let her go, man. I'll go with you without a fight."

"Now that's what I like to hear," Vin Diesel dude exclaimed as he brought him to his knees using a fistful of his hair as a rein, then proceeded to get him in a headlock. He could feel the stubble of the dude's chin brush against his ear where he perched his lips to deliver his next message. "Well Daryl, I must say that is a very selfless act considering that you didn't exactly give the Sanctuary Inn rave reviews after your last stay. She must be pretty special to you, ain't she. I have to admit, she may be old enough to be my mama, but that is one smokin' hot mother I'd love to fuck! You wouldn't mind if I sampled some before we head back now, would ya?"

Daryl felt his heart beginning to pound with such force that for a moment he thought that perhaps somehow he would be able to will it to jump out of his chest and strangle this prick for him. They were both still naked as jaybirds from their little afternoon delight encounter, and he could only imagine the vile looks that this piece of shit was throwing her way. Carol had simply rolled her eyes at his crude comments, undoubtedly to communicate that it didn't bother her so he wouldn't act irrationally and attempt to tear the asshole in two before they could come up with a solud plan . The rest of the time though, her eyes had remained locked on his through the duration of the exchange, serving as a vessel for unspoken communication so they could come up with said plan. She was scared no doubt as was he, but more focused on finding a way out of their situation. Her steely gaze into his eyes told him to find a moment to make a bold move and go for it, and he could practically hear her voice inside his head assuring him, "I can take this bitch."

Problem was, the effectiveness of any sort of attack was greatly compromised by his cuffed hands. He would have to take Vin out in a single move or else Vin would counteract by helping Amber finish off Carol so they could both concentrate on him. Unless he could convince Carol to remain submissive to Amber's control over her until he'd already made his move. If she could do that while he tried to make a run for it, Vin could concentrate on hunting him down while Carol took care of Amber. With Amber out of the way, and Vin preoccupied chasing after him, Carol could get to their guns and waste this miserable prick before he had the opportunity to do too much damage. It had to work, it was their only chance at getting out of this thing, together, and both alive. He shifted his gaze to Amber, then back to Carol, giving her a subtle shake of his head from side to side. He then rolled his eyes backward toward Vin, gave a slow, deliberate blink, locked eyes with her again, then shifted his gaze toward Amber. She carefully studied his every nuance, then gave the subtlest nod that she understood. He could see her chest beginning to heave from nervousness over the impending action which assured him that he had communicated the plan effectively.

"You lay a single hand on her, you're a dead man," Daryl growled in response, knowing full well that his desperate warning would only make Vin more eager to make his move.

"Oh, I'm gonna lay more than a hand on her, and you know what? You're not going to be able to do a single thing about it except watch." With that, he jerked Daryl to his feet which was exactly what Daryl had been hoping for. He threw all his weight behind him, which brought Vin to the ground with Daryl landing in a sitting position on top of dude's stomach. Glancing over his shoulder for aim, he threw his head back until his skull came in contact with Vin's forehead, delivering a blow to his captor that was just debilitating enough to buy the few seconds he needed to break free.

"Fuck," Amber screamed in frustration. Carol could sense there had been no plan in play for what to do in the event of a counter-attack which may or may not work to her advantage. If the chick was smart, she would know enough to keep her captive alive. If she was a nervous little bird who really didn't know what in the hell she was doing, this could all end very badly for the both of them. It became apparent that it was the latter when Carol felt the knife piercing her throat once more.

"YOU WANT ME TO WASTE THIS BITCH OR WHAT," Amber screamed out frustratedly.

"NO! HE'LL COME BACK FOR HER. WE NEED HER ALIVE," Vin lookalike dude barked at his partner before staggering to his feet and running off in pursuit of Daryl. Once he was well on his way, Carol made her move. First, it was a forceful elbow into her stomach, then using both hands she grabbed the one of Amber's holding the knife and began to squeeze with all her might.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, BITCH," Amber yelped as she threw her weight into Carol, forcing and pinning her to the ground as she fell atop her. It was an evenly-matched power struggle which ensued, with one woman at a time briefly experiencing the illusion of winning control until the other was able to overpower her and yurn the tables. Somewhere in the midst of the fight, Carol had managed to successfully pry the knife out of her hands, but both of them lost track of it's location when the sheer physicality of the battle rendered them both unware of it's present location.

Meanwhile, Vin had managed to catch up to Daryl, which was all part of the plan. He wouldn't kill him, Negan wanted him alive no doubt, but he knew he had to continue to put up a fight until Carol was in the clear and was able to sneak up upon them and distinguish the threat. He wouldn't be able to remain effective for long with his hands cuffed, but he was sure he had at least a few more head-butts and leg swipes in him, though he needed to be careful to not to knock himself unconscious in the process.

Something was wrong though. Several minutes had passed now and they both knew that they only had a very small window of opportunity to work with. With his senses on full alert, he could now hear the screams, more specifically, Carol's. She was in trouble. Amber had obviously proven herself to be a more formidable opponent than they had thought. He now realized that there would be no more stalling for Carol to come to his rescue; he was going to have to go in after her. Fear of losing the woman he loved unleashed the beast inside, and with one final leap onto his attacker, his body seemed to know exactly what to do, completely independent of any strategic thought. His brain was only capable of processing one idea at the moment, and that was how in the world would he be able to go on if anything happened to her.

There was no further movement from Vin after he heard the loud crack, and when he looked up to survey the damage, he found his attacker's wide-open eyes staring vacantly at nothingness while blood gushed out from the back of his head onto the boulder beneath it. He immediately hopped to his knees, and with his back to RIP Diesel, he shoved his hand into one of dude's pants pocket in search of his key to freedom. Luck for the moment seemed to be on his side when he discovered he had chosen the right pocket to search first when he found a key ring. Tossing it don to his side, he identified the cuff key and attempted a pick-up with his fingers aiming for the target. Within seconds he had himself freed, then proceeded to quickly strip Drop-Dead Fred of any weapons he had. Swiftly, but with marked caution, he made his way back toward Carol.

The adrenaline through his body was racing at an all-time high. It hadn't seemed like he had put that much distance between the two of them when he took off running, but he could see no sign of her as he approached her last known location. And now he no longer had her screams to go by, which he wasn't quite sure was a good thing or bad thing at this point. Then he heard the grunting and high-pitched squealing of a voice that surely wasn't Carol's. Just barely through a tiny clearing in the trees, he could see the blonde bitch kneeling on Carol's stomach with both hands clasped around her throat.

With assassin-like bravery, he marched toward them in a straight line, armed with a handgun held at arm's length. In her determination to choke the life out of Carol, she never heard him coming, and probably never realized she was about to die until the deed was already done. It happened so fast that he still had to pry her hands away from Carol's throat.

The faintest little moan had managed to escape her lips just before her barely-opened eyes fluttered to a close.

"Oh no, Carol, come on," Daryl cried out helplessly as the same bodily instincts he experienced before came back into play and he began performing CPR looking like a pro despite the fact that he'd never done it before, not even in practice. His hands knew they needed to tilt her head back, and just where on her chest to apply the compressions; his lips knew the best placement and procedure for delivering the optimal amount of artificial breaths. Between every third interval, he would kneel down and put his ear near her mouth and nose with his head turned to her chest looking for signs of movement. Nothing. Then three more-nothing.

"NOOOO," he howled out like a wounded animal as his attempts to resuscitate her grew more and more frantic, and his body began breaking into a cold sweat. The chest-pumps became faster, the breaths that stemmed from his own over-inflated lungs, more powerful. Three rounds more of that, all for nothing. Then three rounds more again, and still-nothing.

"Carol, please," he barely managed to choke out, as he lovingly cupped her chin in his hand. one of the first tears to come streaming down his cheek splashed down onto hers, prompting him to quickly wipe it away with his thumb. Her flesh felt cool, prompting him to have to consider the unthinkable.

"No," he wailed just before his hands began pounding at her chest once more. "I won't let you leave me, you understand?! I won't-you can't." He was sobbing so hard he could barely catch his own breath let alone offer it to someone else, but when it came to Carol, she could have his last breath, or last anything for that matter, if that's what it took to save her life. Back to the compressions he went when the last breath still did nothing. Just as he was about to make the transition back to her mouth for quite possible the final attempt, her eyes slowly started to open, and a faint growling sound escaped from her lips.

Just for one, completely horrific second, he thought she had turned until he realized there was still much life left in those gorgeous blue eyes. Then came her smile, the weak attempt that it was at one, but that was already more than he needed.

"Hey," was all he could manage to say, because saying everything he wanted to would just take way too much time and effort away from his main focus right now which was making sure her condition remained stable.

"Hey," she attempted to reply back, prompting Daryl to put a finger to her lips.

"Shhh, you don't need to talk right now OK. All I need you to do is breathe, got it?"

She nodded compliantly and began focusing on taking longer, deeper breaths each time she would inhale. When he felt confident she had her breathing under control, he hopped up and went off in search of something.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him returning to the scene with the blanket they had been using to snuggle under earlier tucked under his arm. She began to bring herself to a sitting position which prompted Daryl to pick up the pace for the last few remaining steps.

"Whoa, wait, what are you doing," he scolded like a nervous mother watching over an injured child.

"I need to sit up," she informed him as she inched back toward a nearby tree.

He nodded agreeably as he knelt beside her and draped the blanket over her exposed skin to offer some much-needed warmth and modesty. Looking up at him with piercing eyes and a nod of her head toward the blanket, she demanded, "You, under here too."

He obediently joined her and she immediately fell into his arms, allowing herself to feel comforted by his strong embrace, which in this case was about ten times more powerful than usual as he possessively held tight to what was almost lost, secretly vowing to never let go again. They were both crying, one didn't need to look at the other to know that, just like they didn't have to speak to share how they were both feeling at that very moment, or ever before. No words were needed to express how much they loved each other, no matter the situation they were in, which was the very thing that was going to get them through this war alive. They made a mistake, and going forward, they were going to be careful the same mistake was never made again. Their lives, their future, depended on it. They spent the remainder of the night this way, knowing full well, again without discussion on the matter, that tomorrow everything would be different, and it was a sacrifice they were both willing to make so neither one would ever have to suffer the unimaginable pain of losing the other.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Present Day

Carol sat in the glider-rocker in her room, which had been temporarily relocated immediately in front of her chamber's sole window, cuddling a nursing Alexander in her arms. She had a perfect, bird's-eye view from her room of the main road leading up to Thornton House which would be the route leading Daryl, and whomever else from back home in Alexandria he managed to recruit along with him, back to her. She had spent many previous nights performing the very same routine dating all the way back to her first days there, except for the facts that, A; Alexander then was still inside her tummy, and B; she hadn't a clue when or if Daryl was even going to show up...or if he was even still alive. Most nights she had fallen asleep that way, only when her eyes couldn't manage to hold themselves open for another minute, and every morning, Dena would come in with hands-on-hips and scold her for not getting into bed and getting a proper night's sleep.

Dena had taken an immediate liking to Carol. When she first arrived, Carol had been so severely malnourished and weak that Dena herself had spent the first three days immediately at her side twenty-four-seven, monitoring the stats of her and her baby. During that time period, Dena knew more of this new woman's story than she knew about the majority of those in her own community, and learned they had both suffered an eeirily similar, heartbreaking loss that formed a bond that was sure to endure a lifetime.

Dena had been on-duty at the main hospital on-site, which was presently once again operational to their best ability despite limited resources, after several long years of renovation following the outbreak, when things started to get bad and the building and all it's occupants were forced to go on lockdown. Of course no one knew how much worse things were about to get at the time, and by the time she realized that this "virus" was well beyond the realm of control and no one was safe, it was too late. She thought she had been doing her husband and daughter a favor by staying away since so many at the hospital had become infected. The virus had hit them so fast that there hadn't been time for studies of any kind to be performed, so as far as she knew she could have already been infected herself. The only thing she knew for a fact was that if one of the "sick" had bitten you, then you were doomed. But as more and more became infected, it began to seem like they were all doomed anyway. The very last communication they had received from the CDC had been to "put down" anyone who was infected, which they did despite any moral conflict they might have had with that demand. But then they came back. And they would just keep coming at you despite being stabbed or shot at, unless your aim was lucky enough to get them in the head. Once what remained of the National Guard stationed outside had figured this much out, they wasted no time attempting to take out the mob of people, the majority of which were still alive, at least at that point, in a pre-meditated, last-stand ambush. She watched in horror from an upstairs window as hundreds were slaughtered, praying to God the whole time that her husband and daughter were still safe back at home. The next morning, the group of thirty or so that were still holed up inside that had managed to thus far survive made a plan to escape. Armed with guns stolen off of fallen soldiers and assorted medical instruments which might come in handy, they ventured out into the scene of the massacre. The majority of bodies they had encountered were dead-dead from gunshot wounds to the head, but there was also plenty of those who weren't lucky enough to have received the more humane ending, feeding on the ones who had. The minute they had stepped out the door, the undead abandoned whatever grub they were currently dining on in exchange for fresh meat, and the group was forced to put their survival skills to an immediate test without the benefit of a few, no-pressure practice runs. The horde had surrounded them in no time, and each individual was faced with the challenge of one coming at them from every angle. Right after you took one out, you had to turn on your heels and get the one coming behind you with little time to aim. On one such incident, Dena had known that when she swung around to get the walker coming up behind her, she needed to aim low. The scalpel had already penetrated it's head before she realized that it was her own daughter, Sophia.

It wasn't just the loss of their daughters that they bonded over however. Both had lost numerous other members of their "new family" along the way while somehow they managed to endure and grow stronger. Out of the group that had ventured out from the hospital into the unknown that morning, only three still remained, Dena included. She was totally in awe over the woman Carol had become, and had a complete understanding of how hard it must have been for her to walk away from her family at a time when they needed her most.

Riverview had been through similar struggles early on in their development stages, but had earned itself a reputation for helping those in need, even when those in need were people who had just tried to overtake the community and everything they had tried to rebuild. When outsiders realized there was several, highly trained medical personnel, it not only became a place where people sought refuge, but also a place that other communities became dedicated to protecting. As a result, Riverview began to open it's gates to more and more, with a few stipulations. To guarantee their continued safety, the community had to remain a place that others would be dedicated to protecting, and for that reason, the only people who would be allowed to move in there were families with children, orphaned children, and expectant mothers. Additionally, the sick would be welcome in just long enough to be treated, and on occasion, a few who were found to have talents that would be beneficial to the community were also invited to stay which was how Dean and Jacinta had become permanent residents. While being driven to the gate for release, Dean's escort's car had broken down and with a quick pop of the hood, he was able to address the issue and offered to make the repairs himself before his departure. It just happened to be one of the trades they were seriously lacking skilled individuals in at the time. As a result, just like that, he and his girlfriend were offered a new home.

From Carol's stories, Alexandria and it's sister communities seemed to be chock-full of equally, good-intentioned people desperately trying to rebuild their dying society, and communities like these also deserved the same kind of protection that Riverview graciously received from all who surrounded it. Dena wanted to help, but their communities were logistically too far apart to be of any real assistance, at least during this war that they were in the midst of. She couldn't exactly sit around and do nothing either, as the unknown fate of Carol's home and family, and most importantly her baby daddy, was taking it's toll on her well-being. She encouraged her to take up residence in Thornton House where she hoped getting her involved with the babies would help keep her mind off of things, but that wasn't enough. Carol simply would not rest until she knew her family and Daryl were safe, and that was when she decided to put together a search party to venture out and survey the situation. She made it her mission to bring Daryl there alive and well, and in time plenty of time to see his son be born.

Carol looked lovingly down at her son, whose entire tiny hand was wrapped around her one, little pinky as he fed from her breast. It was more than a miracle that he was here today. She was a bigger believer that it was the greatness of select individuals these days that made good things happen, and the longer they survived, the number of good continued to rise above any bad apples out there who were spoiling the bunch. Without Dena, her son would not have been born. Without Rick, her family would not have survived. Without Daryl, she wouldn't have wanted to after Sophia died.

It was this little man in her arms however who gave her the greatest gift of all: hope. She would never in her life forget the day when she found out she was pregnant. First came denial, then disbelief, then dread until nature gave her maternal instincts the much-needed psychological reboot required to raise this child. Hope was no longer something that was merely wished for; it was up to her to use the power of belief in it for the sake of her son's future, to effectively raise him to find a purpose to evolve other than sheer survival.

As she began to lightly doze off, the memory of that day nearly eight months ago began to once again reply itself in vivid detail, beginning with her secret meeting with one of the first people she had become acquainted with while convalescing during her first visit to the Kingdom. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Eight Months Earlier From Present-and Everything Else Inbetween

 **Alexandria**

"CAROL," Daryl hollered as he beat upon the front door of her house with double fists, now for the third time, and still without an answer. Perhaps it was possible that the two had somehow just crossed paths and she was already on her way to the square, but it wasn't like to her to be late for anything, and especially not something as important as this.

They had spent the last few months planning their next major ambush on the Saviors; "They" being all willing and able residents of Alexandria, Hilltop, The Kingdom, and the newest addition to their ever-growing army: Oceanside. With the next strike just days away, the day had come for Alexandria to head out toward The Kingdom where all would meet to join forces once again. Carol was always one of the first, if not THE first, persons to arrive, and not seeing her face among the crowd had thrown up an immediate red flag. Rick confirmed his concerns when he expressed his assumption that the two of them would show up together. It was then that Daryl volunteered himself to retrieve her.

It was becoming quickly apparent that something was amiss however, so he bypassed a fourth attempt for a formal invite inside and let himself in. All it took was crossing the threshold for him to realize that she wasn't there. The house FELT empty. Kinda like the way his whole body felt since putting himself on shutdown following the incident in the woods.

"Carol," he found himself calling out regardless of this conclusion as he cautiously made his way up the stairs, just to cover all the bases and maybe find a clue or two as to her whereabouts.

Her bedroom door was open, providing him the sneak-peek which confirmed she wasn't still in bed. But her bed was unmade, and it wasn't like her to leave for the day without doing so. This realization caused him to pause at the door before venturing in any further. Perhaps his senses weren't as strong as he thought, and she could very well be in the shower or otherwise indecent. He was just about to call out her name once more when his eyes spotted the note laid across her pillow. The large print was practicaly big enough for him to read from where he was standing, but he still went in for a closer look.

 _ **Headed up to The Kingdom early. See you all there**_.

He could feel his heart pick up the pace as all the oddities of the situation began to weigh on him, primarily her unmade bed most of all. But also- why a note? Why not simply tell Rick or SOMEBODY at least that she was heading to The Kingdom? It wasn't like anyone would try and tell her that she couldn't go. Although everyone looked to Rick as being the leader, on the same token, no one ever questioned an answer or instruction coming from Carol, Maggie, Michonne, Carl or himself either. If Carol felt the need to head up to The Kingdom early for whatever reason, then Carol would just be allowed to go, no questions asked, except for maybe a simple, genuine, "Is everything ok," inquiry.

As he stood at her bedside with note in hand, pondering the possibilities, something began to disturb his senses. A faint, foul odor of some sort. His nose began to seek out the direction from which the scent was emitting, and within a few seconds, he was able to hone in on the small wastebasket sitting at her bedside. He picked it up for a closer inspection and found that there was a small amount of a rancid smelling fluid he presumed to be vomit. Now it was all beginning to make sense.

"Hey. She's not here," Rick's voice came suddenly from right outside the bedroom door. "Matt told me he opened the gate for her early this morning and she's on her way to the Kingdom."

"Yeah, I know," Daryl replied, waving the note stating the same. "And I think I know why."

 **The Kingdom**

Carol sat with her legs dangling off the edge of the exam table, holding the small wastebasket close to her chest, all the while praying she wouldn't have to use it again.

"That medication should start kicking in quickly," Maura, The Kingdom's resident doctor, noted in a sympathetic drawl upon noticing Carol's continued struggle to ward off another vomiting spell.

"What I need is antibiotics," Carol suggested right before losing the battle to one final, unpleasant upheaval before the medicine effectively kicked in.

"I'm not so sure of that," Maura said as she offered Carol a fresh, moist washcloth to wipe her mouth with. "Other than fatigue and vomiting, you really don't have any other symptoms of a bacterial infection."

"Maybe not yet, but I really can't afford to get sick, not with everything that's about to go down."

"Carol, we simply can't afford to give out antibiotics just as a precautionary measure, you know that. Besides, I'm not so convinced you're actually sick."

The doctor's reply earned her a gaping-mouthed stare of disbelief from Carol.

"I just practically filled up this your little bucket here with the entire contents of my stomach, and you mean to tell me-"

"I'm just simply suggesting there are could be other explanations for what is going on," Maura quickly interjected in attempt to soothe Carol's growing frustration. "Like stress. You're all under a lot of pressure right now, and I know how hard it has got to be weighing on you. The worrying, the casualties of war. Believe me, I don't question your strength for a minute, but your brain has to find some sort of outlet for dealing with all of these pent-up emotions, and many times that release comes through physiological forms."

"I suppose," Carol nodded, unable to deny her recently heightened fear of the certain casualties to come.

"But, there are some other things we should rule out as well, so I'm going to ask you a few more preliminary questions, starting with, is there any chance you could be pregnant?"

Carol began to chuckle, simply bemusedly at first before morphing into a bout of maniacal laughter.

"OK, that's fine, a simple 'no' would have sufficed," Maura said as she began to chuckle herself, but when Carol then grew suddenly quiet and appeared to get lost in some private train of thought, she hesitated to note her response on the clipboard before seeking confirmation. "That was a no, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Carol replied, super-enthusiastically which only resulted in increasing Maura's doubt about the validity of her answer. "Hello, pushing fifty years old over here, I would think that's pretty obvious!"

"If it were that obvious I wouldn't ask. Are you still menstruating? Have you recently been sexually active?"

Carol found herself speechless when she could only reply with a yes on both accounts. Mensruating, yes. Sexually active, yes. But pregnant? No. No way. Not once had the thought even crossed her mind.

"Carol?"

She knew she needed to offer some sort of supply, but all she could manage to come up with was, "I'm not pregnant."

"That's not what I asked. Look, how about we just do it this way instead," Maura said as she scooted her stool across the floor to a nearby dresser serving as a supply closet and withdrew an item from one of it's drawers. "Let's just do this so we can officially rule it out and move onto other possibilities, alright."

Carol stared blankly at the pregnancy test just placed in the palm of her hand. No. Again, it just wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. Not now. Not like this. Not in this horrific world they were living in. Shaking her head, she attempted to return the test wand back to Maura.

"I'm sure you should be using these just as sparingly as you do antibiotics, so let's not waste this one. I'm telling you, I know I am NOT pregnant."

"Alright Carol, if you can look me in the eye and answer 'no' to either one of the questions I just asked you, then we can forget it. Otherwise, get your ass in that bathroom and take the goddamn test already."

After about a minute of simply glaring at Maura with a steely gaze, Carol hopped off the table and strode defiantly toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind her as she reluctantly obeyed Maura's stern order. A minute later she emerged, tossing the stick at the doctor as she took back her seat on the edge of the table.

"Three minutes and we shall have an answer."

Carol rolled her eyes as her nervous feet performed a tapdance upon the stepstool beneath them. "Three minutes and you'll have the answer I've been telling you all along." As the minutes continued to pass by, her fingers joined in the performance as if playing an invisible piano on her own laptop.

Maura's face broke into a wide grin when apparently an answer was finally upon them. Carol took her smile to be a signal to provide her with some relief; in Maura's eyes, it was one of victory.

"Well, that's settled then. Can we move on to the next set of questions now, doc?"

"Certainly," Maura replied with a know-it-all grin that was beginning to creep Carol out. "So, when was your last period?"

"I don't know, a couple months or so ago, maybe more" Carol replied with agitation, certain that they were moving on into other areas of study now that the pregnancy bs had been dismissed. "But that's been normal for me in recent years. I've been waiting for the day it just stopped altogether." As the words escaped her mouth, it suddenly became clear where Maura was going with this, or so she thought. If she wasn't pregnant, which again, for the hundredth time she knew she wasn't, then she was going through the change. Of course, it was so obvious now.

"Ok, and when was the last time you were sexually active?"

"You know, that's a really private thing to ask. Does it really matter at this point?"

"Of course it matters," Maura replied matter-of-factly.

"Why," Carol growled at her as her frustration became replaced by anger.

"Because we need to be able to calculate when your baby is due."

Every little trace of color drained from Carol's face as she tried to make sense of the words she had just heard, but the more she tried to convince herself it was merely some mistake, the more the memories of the day the alleged 'transaction' took place came flooding back in vivid detail. It had been both one of the worst and most wonderful days of her life, but now the memory of it was morphing into just one huge nightmare altogether. Not only was it not the time or place to get pregnant, she had absolutely no business trying to have a kid at her age. Not that she was ever trying. And the baby was Daryl's. Her sweet, sweet Daryl whom she loved more than anyone in the entire world. It could be his only chance at being a father, only her body was probably way to old to play host to a healthy baby.

She didn't even recall when she had left the doctor, or how long she'd been roaming the street consumed by these thoughts until she found herself thrust back into reality by a grab on her arm. Looking up to investigate the source, she found herself once again locked in the tractor-beam pull of Daryl's lovingly concerned gaze.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Continued From Previous Chapter

"There you are, I been looking all over for ok?"

 _No, fuck you Daryl. Don't you dare start being nice to me. Not now._

"Hey," his raspy voice came softly again when he didn't receive the prompt reply he'd expected. When she still remained hesitant to respond, a gentle hand cupped her chin and tilted her head upward to meet his gaze, only this time she refrained with all her might from making any sort of eye contact. That would have been a fatal mistake given her weakened condition. God only knows what kind of gibberish might come blubbering out of her mouth.

"I'm fine," she finally replied curtly as she shook herself free of his embrace.

"You don't look fine. You look like shit."

"Thanks a lot, asshole,' she replied, feeling somewhat more at ease now that they were back to flinging insults at one another, at least that's what she told herself it was. Truth of the matter was she DID look like shit and felt like something even worse, and he was simply calling it as it is, no genuine disrespect intended. Not that there ever was.

"I know you went to see the doctor."

This confession caused Carol's heart to start racing at one hundred plus miles per hour as she began to ponder exactly what else he might know. It would be just her luck to get knocked up by a guy with mad tracking skills. That was of course IF she was really even pregnant. I mean, c'mon...at this point in time, there shouldn't be a single one of those stupid over-the-counter pregnancy tests left out there without an expired shelf life. The thing was obviously defective. Still, even if that were the case, she couldn't have Daryl believing such nonsense, not even for a second. As she wove herself this new web of denial, Daryl continued to give her the breakdown of what he knew.

"I know you puked right before you left. Didn't bother to clean it up or make your bed. That's not like you. I knew that meant you were feeling pretty bad."

"Well, here I am," she said as she conjured up her best performance of a woman in perfect health, flashing a most pathetic attempt at a radiant smile that would have made her cringe if she could have seen it. "Doc released me to go about business as usual. Said it was probably just a case of mild food poisoning, if you can imagine such thing in our day and age."

Her sarcasm was lost on Daryl, whose unwavering concern still lingered in his eyes. "That's not what she told me."

Carol could feel her face turning a whiter shade of pale while her knees simultaneously seemed to turn to jelly. The medication that was supposed to ease her nausea was either simply wearing off, or just as defective as that stupid pregnancy test because once again, she found herself buckling over to dispell the contents of her stomach. She was pretty sure she might have then fallen if Daryl's arm hadn't slithered in and wrapped itself supportively around her waist right in the nick of time.

 _Oh my God...it's too late. He knows. He already knows._

That was the fear that had crossed her mind when his hand gently squeezed at the flesh on her stomach. Daryl had undoubtedly made a visit to the doctor his first stop in his search for her, and she probably blabbed their little secret despite all that doctor/patient confidentiality bullcrap that didn't really matter anymore, and told him to make sure 'he and his friends should watch out for the little pregnant woman now. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and doesn't lift a finger, God forbid, cuz this was no place for a woman. Certainly not in her delicate situation.'

"What did she tell you," she found herself asking after he finished tenderly blotting the corners of her mouth with one of his trusty rags, despite not being sure she wanted to know the answer.

"Nuthin' I don't already know," he replied with a knowing grin that was far too sweet for her liking. "That you're stubburn as a mule, and that you need to get your rest but you won't take no for an answer." And that was thankfully all he knew indeed.

"Kinda like somebody else I know," she suggested after letting out the hugest sigh of relief and a nod in his direction.

"Takes one to know one."

It was the closest they had come to having a decent conversation in over two months. She'd spent the majority of this time yearning for the day when they could allow things to go back to normal, but now wasn't the time. This one seemingly-innocent little breach of necessary preservation tactics could potentially cost someone their life. When you allow yourself to be designated as someone's protector, you will do whatever it takes to keep them alive, even if it means sacrificing your own life, and their unspoken pact to one another was to emerge from this war hand-in-hand. All that was needed was a little suspension of reality in the form of pretending that when it came to one another, they really didn't give a damn. Of course this method had it's flaws because, as it turned out, pretending to not give a fuck was a lot harder than it seemed. You actually had to pretend that pretending itself wasn't difficult. You just had to try to not think about it at all really, except now she found herself thinking about it nonstop. Nonstop now that the stakes had been raised and there were three of them to protect instead of two.

 _Oh, shut up, Carol._ Or shut up Maura was more like it. Stupid bitch didn't know what in the hell it was she was talking about. And she was damn lucky that her and her stupid giddy ass didn't say something more to Daryl. Thank God she hadn't been dumb enough to reveal the identity of her 'alleged' baby's daddy. For all she knew, the dumb bitch was already planning her a baby shower, living out some long-forgotten baby dream vicariously through her and her non-existant pregnancy.

One thing for sure was, she was determined to make sure that Maura didn't say a peep more to anyone, and especially not to Daryl. After humoring him with a little white lie in the form of a promise to get a few minutes rest, she stormed back to pay dear old Doc a visit.

Maura yelped when she turned on her heels and found herself nose to nose with the barrel of a handgun.

"You listen to me," Carol growled fiercely as her white-knuckled hand gripped the gun tightly. "Regardless of what happens to me, you don't tell a single soul about what happened here in this office today, you understand?"

"Carol, of cour-"

"JUST NOD YOUR FUCKING HEAD AND SAY YOU UNDERSTAND," she screeched, resulting in the doctor promplty complying with her demand.

"I don't care if I've gone MIA, or I'm on my deathbed, or already dead. Not a single word to anyone."

When she was sure that she managed to make herself clear, she excused herself and started to make her way toward the building where the others were assembling to go over strategies for the umpteenth time while she began conjuring up some new ones for her own personal use. As she rounded the last corner before she reached her destination, she quickly realized she no longer had the leisure of thoughtfully planning her next steps when the building housing Daryl, and just about every other person she loved, exploded into flames.


	9. Chapter 9

***Author's Notes***

First of all, just a quick shout-out for all the guest reviewers whom I don't get to thank personally. I really appreciate all of your kind comments!

Second, with the busy holiday season upon us, between work and the massive amount of cookie-baking I have to do, I probably will not have the opportunity to update as frequently as I have been. I hope to still be able to knock out at least one new chapter a week. In typical fashion, this story was intended to be much shorter than what it's turning out to be, but when it comes to Caryl, I just can't help myself. I don't want to leave anything out :)

Chapter Nine

Continued From Previous Chapter

Carol began to run toward the burning building as fast as her tiny feet would take her despite the fact that her heart was pounding so hard she was sure to go into cardiac arrest if she dared to push her body's limits any further. It was a pretty irresponsible approach to boot-running right smack-down in the middle of the main drag leading upto the building when it was quite apparent they were under attack. But there was no gunfire, at least not yet, or-there was, but she was just too damn oblivious to hear it. Her only concern was reaching the building in time to help whomever may be trapped inside.

Maybe no one was trapped inside. She began to slow her pace only when she was immediately upon the location and saw Rick, Michonne, Tara, Jesus, Morgan, and Ezekiel, among others, congregated outside with Rick apparently attempting to take a headcount.

"Did everyone get out ok," she asked approaching Michonne and consuming her with a hug. "Are YOU ok?"

"I'm fine," Michonne replied with a crackly, shaken voice. "But we can't find Maggie, Rosita or Jerry. We think they're still trapped inside."

Hearing anyone was in trouble would have been enough to motivate her into rescue mode, but her response didn't exactly provide an answer for the one person she had in mind. She found herself forced to make a more specific inquiry. "Where's Daryl?"

"He and Aaron went back in to-"

That was all the info that she needed to hear.

"CAROL! NO! DON'T!"

Michonne's pleas only fell on deaf ears as Carol wrapped her scarf around her face just before dodging through flames to enter the burning building. It was just a modestly-sized little place with about the same footprint of your average small-town bank, but more likely had probably served as an office for an insurance or real estate agency. Now , whatever it once was had been reduced to a maze of jagged wooden beams engulfed in flames, made all the more impossible to navigate through massive billows of thick, black smoke. The only thing providing her with some sense of direction to go in was the screaming. Maggie's screams.

When she was near enough to finally catch a glimpse of at least some of the missing party, she was able to identify Daryl, Aaron and Jerry all hovering over what appeared to be a large crater in the floor. They were surrounded by flames in all directions and for the first time since she bravely (stupidly) barged herself inside, she began to consider they just might not make it back out alive. Paired with this horrific realization came a few falling beams not more than three feet behind her, effectively erasing any chance at all she might have of turning back, not that she would.

The sound of the collapsing structure had managed to divert Daryl's attention in her direction.

"CAROL!?"

"I'M OK," she called out quickly, to lay any fears he might have to an immediate rest. "STAY WHERE YOU ARE. I'M COMING TO HELP."

"NAH, TURN AROUND NOW," he screamed out in desperation as he sprung to his feet and began bounding in her direction. By the time she realized why he would make such a bold move, it was too late. Following his wide-eyed, upward gaze, she only saw the fiery beam coming straight before her just a fraction of a second before it hit her forehead.

"Carol."

"I'm ok," she murmered with tightly squinched-shut eyes, rolling her head from side to side as if attempting to shake it free of something. In this case, that something seemed to be some sort of vice that was surely encasing her skull from both sides. When she blinked her eyes open however, all she saw was Maura hovering over her, flashing a damn pen light in her eyes.

In her brief moment of ignorance, she thought she had been answering Daryl. He was coming after her, through the flames. OH MY GOD!

"Where is he," she wailed out in a frenzied state as she rose from the bed and planted her feet on the floor, only ever-so-slightly aware of the stinging of her burned forehead accompanying the brain-squeezing headache.

"Who," Maura inquired, genuinely clueless as to the identity of the person she sought.

"DARYL! WHERE IS HE?"

Maura offered her a reassuring smile, but Carol was good at detecting bullshit when she saw it. "He's going to be fine. He's resting, like you should be. Now get your ass back in bed."

With heart pounding in overdrive once more, Carol stormed past the protesting doctor in search of Daryl. If he was hurt like Maura's reaction had suggested, then he was probably right here in one of the other rooms. It didn't take her long to find him. He was right next door.

Michonne was sitting at his bedside, gently blotting at his raw, blistered arms with a rag soaked in cool water. Carol's hand automatically rose to stifle a shriek of despair escaping her own mouth as she watched his face distort in agony.

"Hey," Michonne said acknowledging her with a heavily-burdened smile. "You ok?"

"I'm fine," Carol responded as she inched cautiously toward the bed, causing Daryl to jerk his head to the side to identify his visitor. The brief eye contact that they made was sufficient enough for Carol to recognize that he was relieved to see her up and about, despite any actual context of conversation that followed.

"Get outta here," he growled, fixing his gaze on the ceiling tile straight above his head. "You got no business being up and outta bed."

"I just needed to know everyone is ok," she explained, downplaying her one primary concern had already been satisfied. "What about Maggie? And Aaron? Rosita and Jerry?"

"Maggie is going to be fine," Michonne stepped up to the plate and answered to spare Daryl the duty. "Jerry and Aaron managed to pull her out and get her to safety. Maura said she and the baby both will be just fine. Aaron escaped without a scratch. Jerry is ok. He's got some burns too but they're not quite as serious," she indicated exactly to what degree by nodding at Daryl for comparison. "Rosita..." Michonne was unable to complete her sentence before her voice gave out on her.

Carol didn't need to hear the words to know. Through Michonne's tears and Daryl's sniffling, she knew then that they had lost another family member today. She was feeling the sudden urge to vomit again, only this time she was sure her queasiness was a direct result of grief and despair rather than some imaginary (real) pregnancy.

"What happened? Was it the Saviors," she managed to squeak out, even more quietly than a mouse.

Michonne shrugged. "Probably? I don't know...I think we were all waiting for them to show up and start picking us off one by one, but nothing else happened. I really don't know what else could have caused the place to go up like that though."

"Wasn't them," Daryl said through gritted teeth as Michonne managed to hit a particularly sensitive spot with the cloth. "This was an inside job."

"Rick said the same thing," Michonne admitted as she threw the soaked rag into the bowl of cool water situated on top of the nightstand next to Daryl's bed and rose to her feet. "I'm sorry, I need to talk to Rick. We need to get to the bottom of this before something else happens."

Daryl nodded agreeably as he swung his feet around to get up.

"No, not you," Carol demanded as she scooted in to take Michonne's place before he could successfully plant his feet on the ground.

"Nah, get outta my way. I'll get to restin' just as soon as you do."

"If that's what it takes to keep you in bed, fine...scoot over then."

"WHAT THE FUCK'S THE MATTER WITH YOU, WOMAN," he snarled at her, flailing his arms despite the horrific amount of pain the movement would cause to prohibit her from getting any closer. "PEOPLE TRYNA BLOW US UP, PEOPLE GETTIN' HURT, PEOPLE DYIN' AND YOU WANNA START SNUGGLIN' AND SHIT!"

He was on his feet now, pacing the floor beside her. She didn't take his ranting personally, she never did...not even way back in the very beginning when she barely knew him as Merle's baby brother. She had recognized even back then, when others had simply wrote him off as being nothing more than Redneck Asshole Junior, that they were missing the bigger picture. Sure, he may have carried a chip on his shoulder the size of the iceberg that sunk the Titanic, and by his own summation he was just a good ol' country boy who had never been out of Georgia, but asshole he was not- at least not about shit that really mattered-like family, and loyalty, and just plain human decency. But you did have to be able to look a little deeper to see these things, and that was something she had become somewhat of a pro at doing. She spent her entire married life trying to find meaning in Ed's behavior. The only way she had been able to cope with the abuse was to develop an understanding about where it all came from.

To the casual observer, there were a lot of similarities between Ed and Daryl. During the very early stages following their arrival at the camp, Ed, Merle and Daryl would get together on a nightly basis and talk a bunch of bullshit about stuff that really didn't matter anymore. Well, Merle talked, while Daryl would keep quiet and pretty much just nod in agreement to any dumb shit that either one of the other two had to say. He always appeared distracted though, and when he would laugh at one of Ed or Merle's stupid racist or chauvenistic comments, it always seemed to come several seconds too late to possess any genuine properties. She had come to the conclusion that Daryl too was just struggling to find the meaning behind why he was surrounding himself by a bunch of assholes. It didn't come as much of a surprise to her when he eventually found other ways to keep himself busy, or that his chosen distraction method, hunting, was actually something that proved beneficial for everyone at the campsite.

This was a scary new role to suddenly take on though when you spent your whole life being called a good-for-nothin', white trash, redneck asshole, and probably more times by his own father than anyone else. And then when his father was no longer around to serve up daily reminders, Merle had been quick to fill his shoes. It never failed that anytime Daryl came back from a hunt empty-handed, Merle would make a big scene to draw attention to his failure. Carol then got a glimpse into his childhood before any later conversation would confirm her deductions. Daryl had never even tried to make a name for himself because he was already living the life that his "family" had set forth for him to lead. But somewhere deep down inside, he also knew that things weren't supposed to be this way, and unlike his father and brother, that desire to serve a higher purpose still burned from within. The walls surrounding that fire though were made of stone, leaving no outlet for escape except for a tiny pinhole from which steam only could escape in the form of universal anger toward everything and everyone.

Over time, she had managed to chip away a few of the stones in that wall. The rest of the demolition of the now non-existent structure had been completed mostly on his own, but also with some help from members of his new family. What she was witnessing now was merely an illusion that the fortress had been rebuilt, simply because he was succumbing to his higher calling of protecting the people he loved, and she knew that she was A-number-one on his list-at least that was the current standing since he didn't yet know about the (maybe) baby. That revelation would be the only one that might drop her down in the ranking, perhaps to B-number-one.

Her heart ached for him, seeing him reduced to this behavior again, for the sole fact that she knew very well that he was far more upset by his own words than she was, regardless of the fact that she-knew-that-he- knew-that-she-knew(that was a mouthful!) they were harmless. His eyes were glassy with tears he would not permit to fall. She knew he wanted to hold her, but his vow to serve as her protector prevented him from breaching that territory where one might feel safe and secure based on the stupid notion that love alone could save the day and see them through. The truly fucked up part of the whole situation was though, no matter how hard they both tried to downplay their feelings for one another, those feelings were still there along with all the stupid mistakes they were trying so hard to avoid making. That's when she knew she had to leave. And, like now, before he stood any chance at all of finding out about this baby.

She still had her doubts that Maura actually knew what the hell she was talking about, (She does, Carol, and you are, you know you are. You thought it even before the morning sickness came, when your breasts began feeling like a couple of ripe oranges in need of a serious juicing. Just like how you knew you were pregnant with Sophia,) but IF Maura was right, (she is,) then she had to get out of dodge before Daryl had a chance to fall in love with this baby too.

Glenn's death had nearly destroyed him. He blamed himself despite any honest-to-goodness insistence that it wasn't his fault from everyone, including Maggie, who was right there, front-and-center, throughout the whole horrific ordeal. If anyone had the right to lash out and need someone to blame it was her, but she didn't blame Daryl-not for a second, and even if the thought had crossed her mind, the internal notion had gone undetected by anyone. She wasn't the only one who really knew who Daryl was. She may know him best, but they all knew that he had a heart of gold and loved his new family something fierce. Glenn didn't die because Daryl put him in harm's way. Glenn died because they crossed paths with a madman with something to prove armed with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire. But you couldn't tell Daryl that. His father and Merle may be long gone from the physical world, but their ghosts would stay with him forever, just waiting for him to royally fuck something up so they could point and laugh and remind him that his dumb redneck ass had no business trying to play the hero in the first place.

Now imagine Daryl trying to cope with the loss of a child. He had taken Sophia's death hard, at a time when they were still merely becoming acquainted with one another. It wasn't like he loved her or Sophia at the time, but he had felt the need to step up to the plate for this little girl because he knew what a piece of shit she had for a father because, when he looked at Ed, all he saw was a carbon copy of his own old man. He didn't have to do it. Sophia wasn't his responsibility, but still it hit him hard. Now, protecting her and a baby that was his own flesh and blood, that was his responsibilty. The reasoning that one could not fully take responsibility for another's life was not part of Daryl's code, and it never would be. If anything happened to either one of them, but more specifically, this baby, it would completely destroy him to the point of no return. The old man and Merle would win and continue to maintain an earthly presence possessing the body of the person who once was known as Daryl Dixon.

She wouldn't stay away forever. Daryl was going to be one amazing father, if given the chance. The shot at having that chance was what she needed so hard to protect right now. Daryl himself was on Negan's most-wanted list. If Negan knew she was pregnant with Daryl's baby, then she and baby Dixon were a prime target. He probably, and she used that term with a grain of salt, wouldn't kill them, but he would certainly try to capture them and use them as a bargaining tool to control Daryl. Try telling him he wouldn't be to blame for that. And with her age and reproductive history, she wasn't quite sure her body could see this baby through all nine months. He'd find a way to blame himself for that as well. Until she was sure that this baby at least stood a chance making it into this world, and Negan and the Saviors were no longer a threat, he simply couldn't know. He would do anything end everything to protect them, or die trying, and she couldn't have that either.

"-You stupid bitch," were his last words to her as he stormed past her out the bedroom door, presumably to go join the others puzzling over what in the hell just happened today at the Kingdom. Tears began streaming down her face as she stepped into the hall and watched him walk away, knowing that it would be the last time she saw him for god only knows how long. For the first time since Maura delivered the news she suspected to be true all along despite her every attempt to deny it, she pressed the palms of her hands to her stomach and addressed the newest addition to their family in a soft and soothing maternal whisper.

"Don't you worry, little one, it's not goodbye forever, I promise. As soon as it's safe, either we'll come back or, more likely, your daddy will find us first."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Continued From Previous Chapter

Maura frowned with disappointment as she fumbled through the broken-into medicine chest and took a mental inventory of what was missing. Back in the day when she had her own private practice, the few times that a theft had occurred the culprit had been after narcotics. This time, the thief had taken antibiotics and prenatal vitamins. If her thief had just taken the damn vitamins when they were handed to her, she wouldn't have had to come back and steal them. The antibiotics however were a different story. The vitamins were going to wind up in her hands eventually, or be shoved down her throat by outside forces if necessary, but the antibiotics were not needed, at least not now. They could however come in handy in the future, and especially to someone who might be stupidly venturing out into the unknown on her own. With a trembling hand, she un-crumpled the piece of balled-up paper and reread the note that had been left behind for her.

REMEMBER, NOT A WORD OF THIS TO ANYONE-NO MATTER WHAT. I WILL COME BACK AND MAKE GOOD ON MY PROMISE IF YOU DO!

"Hey, have you seen Carol?"

Maura shrieked and spun around in place when the voice caught her off guard. It was Daryl. Fantastic. Apparently Carol was already MIA and her people were missing her which meant she was going to have to come up with some pretty convincing lies on-the-spot IF she chose to keep Carol's secret. Or-she could just tell them the truth too so somebody could stop her before she ended up getting herself and/or her baby killed.

"Um, no, at least not for a couple of hours," she found herself answering however, probably as a result of vividly recalling the warning she received while staring down the barrel of a gun pointed at her face. But it was also true-she hadn't seen Carol within that amount of time, and probably longer than that, but unlike him, she had a good idea of where she might have gone. Or at least not be found.

He seemed to be satisfied with her reply, acknowledging her with a nod before turning to leave, but she wasn't sure it was the answer she was ready to give. "Hey Daryl, wait."

He turned around and waited quietly for an explanation.

"Um-you really shouldn't go out there with your arms all exposed like that. I can see the blisters are starting to break. You need to let me bandage you up so you don't develop any infections."

He seemed bothered by the suggestion at first, but eventually nodded and took a seat on the edge of the exam table. He knew he would be of no good to anyone if some stupid infection were to render him unoperational.

"I understand y'all are about to go in for another attack," she commented plainly as she began to clean him up as best she could before applying any dressing to the wounds. She really wasn't expecting to get much of a response from him, he was a man of few words, at least for the few times she'd come in contact with him, but she found him very intriguing in that way. What also was intriguing was his obvious concern for Carol. He was the one who came knocking when Carol had headed up there unannounced before the rest of the group. He was the first person Carol asked for upon waking up after her brush with death in the fire. He was the one who rescued her from said fire. Now here he was, the one asking for her again amongst the large group of the Alexandrians who were there. She couldn't help but wonder if he was also Carol's baby daddy.

As expected, all she received as far as a response from him was a nod. Perhaps she should propose a more interesting subject matter.

"So, you and Carol-you seem pretty close. I mean...actually, I DON'T mean to sound like I'm implying that you're a thing, or anything like that cuz it's none of my business. I just meant, it's pretty obvious that you're very...special...to one another."

If Carol and her gun-weilding ways weren't frightening enough, she now had Daryl visually dissecting her brain with eyes that seemed to bore holes through her flesh like lasers so he could peer deeply into her soul.

Dear god Maura, you sound like some teenage girl asking her bestie about a summer fling. An image of herself inserted into the movie version of Grease came to mind. _Tell me more, tell me more._

"I'm sorry-"

"We go back a long time, me and Carol," he interrupted, his response taking Maura by surprise. It appeared that he found her level of trustworthiness to be satisfactory and her behavior not quite as teeny-bopperish as she'd feared. "Been together since the very beginning," he continued, his expression waxing nostalgic.

"Did you know each other before?"

"Nah. Right after it happened, me and my brother and a bunch of others ended up setting up camp together. Carol and her old man...her little girl...they were among them. But now, Carol and I...we're the only two left from that first original group. Everyone else..."

Maura found herself tearing up watching Daryl's eyes grow glassy. SUre, she'd heard hundreds of stories similar to this since the fall, but somehow, watching this big badass tough guy nearly break down in tears tugged especially hard at the heartstrings. Also giving the old heartstrings quite a tug-hearing Carol had lost her daughter.

"I didn't know Carol had a daughter, she never mentioned her." _Shut up, Maura, you meddling kid_ , she thought, her Scooby-Doo watching history helping to serve up that accusation. But she couldn't help herself. She was dealing with a major moral dilemma right now and needed as much intel as possible before making a judgement call on whether or not to keep Carol's secret, which would be the professional thing to do in a world where professionalism really didn't matter anymore, or to alert her people of her situation so they could track down her dumb ass and bring her back to her and the Kingdom where she could receive the care that she needs.

"Yeah, well it's not exactly the kind of story you wanna have to repeat over and over again."

Maura nodded understandingly, and couldn't help but notice the defensive manner in which he answered for Carol. Yeah, this was totally her guy.

"Did she get sick, or was it-"

"Nah. Got bit by a walker. Whole herd of 'em came outta nowhere. We were on the freeway. Only place we had to hide was to slide underneath a car and pray they didn't hear or smell ya as they walked by. Some of 'em heard Sophia and went after her. She got scared and ran into the woods to get away from them. Rick caught up with her and had her hide until he was able to kill 'em but When he went back for her she was gone. Missing. The group of us searched for her for days, but as time went on, more and more of 'em were ready to give up."

"But you didn't, did you?" The last time she remembered feeling quite the way she was feeling right now listening to Daryl, she was probably watching Titanic. She already knew the tragic ending of the tale, but somehow the love story accompanying it made it all a little easier to swallow...while also making it hurt all the more, if that even made any sense.

Daryl simply shook his head 'no,' apparently humbled by the fact that he had just been insinuated to be a hero of some sort.

"What about the girl's father?"

The question caused Daryl to snort with disgust. "He was already gone. Guy was a joke to begin with though. People like him didn't last too long out there. One of us probably woulda killed him eventually if a walker didn't get him first."

"So her mama and you was pretty much all that she had."

 _You did more for my little girl today than her father ever did her whole life._ Daryl never forgot those words. Matter of fact, there probably hadn't been a day gone by since that he didn't recall that moment. It was THE first time in his entire life that someone had made him feel special, important, needed...appreciated. It was no doubt the day that a turning point had been established in his relationship with Carol.

"Don't get me wrong, we all cared about Sophia," he was quick to explain. "There was a lot goin' on at the time. Rick's son had been shot, and we were still tryin' to find a place to call home."

"But still-you found the time to make Carol and Sophia a priority when others didn't. I get it now."

"Get what," he inquired with an arched eyebrow, genuinely intrigued.

"That you took Sophia's death just as hard as Carol did."

"You're kidding me, right? Sayin' anyone else could be anywhere near as devastated as a mother losing her child?" His words were intended to downplay his own personal grief, but his eyes provided a streak-free window view into the depths of his eternally haunted soul.

"I think we've all developed this new meaning of family, Daryl. You may not have been her flesh and blood, or known her for her entire life, but you were there for her when others weren't. I'm sure if Sophia had survived and known all that you did for her-"

What happened next, seeing Daryl officially break down and shed a tear, was the very thing that finally swayed Maura into choosing the side she'd been leaning toward from the very beginning, only now she actually knew the exact person that she needed to share her knowledge with the most. It was quite possible she was wrong, and Daryl was not the baby daddy, but even if he wasn't...he was certainly the next in line of people she could trust to tell Carol's secret. Taking a deep breath and mentally begging Carol for her forgiveness, she blurted out the statement which was sure to come back to bite her in the very near future.

"Daryl, there's something I need to tell you, and it's about Carol."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Continued From Previous Chapter

"Daryl, c'mon," Rick's voice came suddenly from the doorway, paired with a hand beckoning him to do the same. "It's Carol. She left here a little while ago. We gotta stop her."

"Is that what you were gonna tell me," Daryl asked Maura in the midst of hopping to his feet.

"Yeah," she replied, feeling somewhat relieved she'd been spared the duty of having to tell him the whole story just yet. Getting Carol back to the Kingdom was priority now, and once her people managed to track her down and bring her back home, she could then get to work on her unwilling patient once more and convince her to share her news herself.

"Why the hell'd ya wait so long to tell me," he seethed in her face as he brushed past her and followed Rick's lead out the building.

"Well, Carol, I sure hope you come to your senses and tell that little hothead of yours the truth," she mumbled aloud, as if the sound of her voice might stand a chance of reaching Carol wherever she was. "If he's this pissed about a fifteen minute secret, how the hell are you gonna explain nine months worth of one."

OUTSIDE

"Do they know where she was goin'," Daryl asked Rick, slightly out of breath, as the two walked briskly to join the group waiting for their return.

"No, but I got a pretty good idea, don't you?"

"She figured it out before we did and she's off to kick some ass," Daryl said with a nod which then turned into a disapproving shake of his head. What Carol had presumably figured out was that the explosion had been courtesy of the Saviors after all. Rick had discovered the truth in the form of a little love note left by Negan himself on his own kitchen counter. Carol must have either put the pieces together or received a similar clue herself, at least that was the best he could do at determining the cause for her departure considering the information he had to work with. "She's pissed and she's not thinkin' straight."

"Yeah, well somebody just hurt one of her cubs, and mama bear isn't gonna take that lying down. She's got a plan."

"Yeah, she does, but whatever it is...it's a stupid one." Suddenly, the color began to drain from his face when he considered one, alarming possibility.

"What ya thinkin' brother," Rick asked with concern as he laid a hand upon Daryl's shoulder.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUUUUCK," he shouted as he smacked Rick's arm away and began pacing around him in circles instead. "WHAT THE FUCK, CAROL!"

"What," Rick attempted for an answer again, obviously perplexed that his thoughts weren't in sync with Daryl's.

"IF SHE WERE JUST GOIN' UP THERE TO FUCK SOMEONE'S SHIT UP SHE WOULDA WAITED FOR US, MAN!"

Daryl was flippin' the hell out, as was typical when it came to anyone or anything threatening Carol. Rick knew whatever it was that was between Daryl and Carol ran deep, but exactly to what extent he never dared to pry. Moments like this however, when Daryl actually let his fear be seen, allowed him to entertain the idea that there was more to their relationship than met the eye. He knew the feeling all to well, and that Daryl's current reaction was one reserved solely for those in peril who were closest to your heart. Maybe it was purely a brotherly-sisterly thing, but all-in-all, whatever it was really didn't matter. Daryl and Carol were each other's rock, and one without the other around to ground them was only functioning at half capacity. And God help the person or persons attempting to harm either one.

"You think she's going up there to-"

"SHE'S GONNA TURN HERSELF IN."

Rick squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as the possibility of Daryl's hypothesis being the reality became more and more probable. For much of the interaction between them and the Saviors thus far, Carol's identity had remained a mystery. That was until she single-handedly invaded the Sanctuary and took out several dozen of Negan's soldiers right from under his nose, and without the courtesy of sticking around afterward to be formally introduced. Dwight had alerted them that rumors of some "short-haired psycho lady," had spread to Negan, and Carol was now a person of interest. It would be just like Carol to sacrifice herself in order to protect others. She was wise enough to know they wouldn't kill her, at least not until all other uses for her had been exhausted since Negan had a twisted kind of respect for anyone with that kind of guts...or nuts, as his arch nemesis preferred to call them regardless of their gender, and she would spend her time there trying to take them down from the inside-out. Still, it was a dangerous situation for her to be in, and Daryl himself knew all too well through personal experience all the horrible shit Negan would serve up in effort to "break" her. A thousand and one awful images were reeling through his brain and now he was the one not thinking straight, which was why Rick knew he had to stop him.

Daryl had stormed away like a madman on a mission. Rick's pleas for him to wait as he ran toward him to stop him may very well have gone unheard even though he was shouting them at the top of his lungs. He did finally manage to catch up to him as he was mounting his bike, but Daryl had shoved him away so hard that it actually sent him to the ground, giving Daryl enough time to make a clean break. Wonderful. Now he had two of his best people potentially hand-feeding themselves to Negan on the dawn of an attack where they both would play very important roles.

They were all prone to impulsively making poor decisions, but Rick couldn't help but feel like he was missing a bigger picture somewhere. Something else was going on, he could feel it, and Carol and Daryl were at the root of it. Whatever it was, he had to get to the bottom of it, but the answers rested solely between the two of them. It would remain a mystery until they were both back in the safe hands of their family, which was why Rick called the emergency meeting to revise their strategies. The focus of what was once supposed to be another kill 'em all attack had now become a rescue mission.

THE SANCTUARY

"This better be good, Simon, or I'm gonna use that over-sized melon of yours for batting practice," Negan called out in response to the knock at the door from behind his seat in the "war room," the same spot that he had occupied since calling the meeting between him and his top dogs about half an hour ago. They had been going over the latest plan of attack for the umpteenth time, and also for the umpteenth time, he found himself dismissing the meeting before he was through with them in order to avoid killing one of the whiny bitches. Rick and his crew managed to do much more damage than any of them had imagined, and morale amongst the Saviors was at an all-time low. In fact, it was pretty damn near non-existent, and not even his own, 'never let 'em see you piss your pants,' mantra seemed to be working. His main priority right now was just getting everybody back on board the Savior train.

"Oh, this is better than good boss. I come bearing a gift."

"You trying to suck up to the boss, you little brown-nosing piece of shit," Negan inquired in jest while expressing genuine intrigue.

"That hurts my feelings. I would truly delight in just being able to make your day. And this...this is going to fucking make your day."

"Alright, alright, quit your cluckin' and show me what you got."

Simon stepped away from the door and backed into the wall to allow a clear passage for what was to follow with his arms folded proudly across his chest. He didn't take his eyes off of Negan when the three men entered the room, just so he capture the wry smile that spread across his boss's face in all it's glory when he finally got to check out his present.

"Well boys...It's begging to look a lot like mother-fuckin' Christmas in here," he exclaimed with refreshed enthusiasm as he sprung from his seat and approached Simon. "First let me apologize to my right-hand-man here. I'm sorry I ever doubted you. You said you brought me a gift, and you delivered brother! Mama told me there was no Santy-Clause, but today, all thanks to you, I'm a believer!"

"It's my pleasure, boss, but you know I don't do it for the gratitude," Simon replied, adding his two cents of ridiculousness to the entire snarky exchange. "Well go on! Aren't you gonna finish unwrapping it?"

"I think I just wanna take another minute to admire the wrapping first. You got him all trussed up so purty here!"

Negan took his place before his present, AKA Daryl, gagged and bound with zip-ties, and stared down upon him with a creepy look of adoration which Daryl might have mistook for something genuine if he hadn't already known the guy was 100% pure psycho.

Daryl however was growing impatient with Negan's childish antics, and began protesting through the gag, which sucessfully prompted Negan to remove it.

"Don't let that prick of yours over there take all the credit," Daryl growled once his mouth was free to speak. "I came to you."

"Is that true, Simon," Negan inquired, his pleasure remaining unaffected by this new development.

"It's true. He brought the gift, I just got it all wrapped up pretty for ya."

"So now, Daryl, I must ask, what has prompted this act of generosity? Or perhaps it's just a little token of appreciation? Was, is it Glenn and Abraham? Were they problem children in your group? Did I do you a favor by taking them out maybe?"

Daryl threw him a look that expressed his disgust over his response, but he wouldn't give Negan the satisfaction of hearing his thoughts on that subject. Besides, he wasn't there to match wits with Negan, he was on a mission.

"You have one of our people, and you're gonna let her go. If you want a prisoner, take me instead."

"Wow, Daryl, that is mighty chivalrous of you. It warms the heart too-knowing there are guys like you left out there. You know, it almost makes me want to do it. Hell, I haven't felt this warm and fuzzy inside since my sister made me go and watch Love Actually with her in the movie theater! That part with the dude using the cue cards to tell that hot married chick that he loved her...gosh I just get all choked-up thinkin' about it-"

"That's the deal. You bring her in here so I know she's safe, then I watch while you release her. You can do whatever you want with me."

Negan hovered over him once more, this time all that pseudo-jolly bullshit was absent, and the menacing look in his eyes finally provided a more accurate accompaniment to his personality.

"I just have one problem with that offer, Daryl. You see, in my experience, two is better than one, and being that you already gifted yourself to me...I have a no-refund policy, you see. In fact, I don't do exchanges either, so you were screwed from the getgo, brother. Maybe next year consider a gift card instead!"

"YOU LET HER GO," Daryl raged from amidst the cackling of Simon, Gavin, and an uberly-confused Dwight, who was not privvy to this part of the "plan."

"Take him back to his favorite room, boys. I'm gonna go pay his friend a visit and let her know that he's here. And try to convince her one more time that she should become one of my little wifeys." He couldn't resist delivering the last part of his statement by getting right in Daryl's face and giving him a sadistic wink before Gavin and Dwight escorted him out.

"Well played, boss," Simon said as he gave him a private little round of applause.

"As did you. I gotta hand it to you. Sometimes I just don't give you dicks enough credit. Now, we just need to find out exactly which little chicken he's referring to and capture her for real."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

About One and a Half Months Later Following Previous Chapter

Roughly 100 miles west of the Kingdom

Inside a quaint little cabin tucked away in what she believed to be the Appalachian Mountains, Carol huffed with frustration as she shook the pair of pants hanging around her ankles free from her body, then proceeded to fling them into the tiny wastebasket at her bedside using only one of her feet to accomplish the task. After spending several minutes twisting herself into various positions on the bed in attempt to get them buttoned, she succumbed to defeat and accepted the fact that yesterday had been the official "just one more day" wear she would ever get out of them. Just a week ago, after just settling into the cabin after her long journey, they had still fit fine, and she had actually begun to think that if she ever had really been pregnant that she might have miscarried without even knowing it somewhere along the way. The "morning sickness" hadn't lasted for long following her departure from the group, and she had actually begun feeling relatively normal again apart from the overwhelming guilt and regret she felt for leaving her family behind at a time when they were in desperate need of her help. Just one week ago, after a long night of pondering over all of her mistakes, she woke up with what she thought was a clearer head, and decided that she would just turn around and head back after spending only a day in her new home.

That was also the first day she found she had trouble buttoning her pants, which prompted her to actually look down upon her bare stomach; something she had been unconsciously avoiding to do for some time. For someone who had been living on a diet of nuts and berries and the occasional squirrel for well over a month, she had begun to develop one heck of a pot belly. Or baby bump. She decided to wait just one more day, just to see if it was just some temporary bloating or something, but then one more day turned into another and another, until finally she was left with no choice but to put the pants up for retirement for good...or at least the next five and a half to six months or so.

With a deep sigh, she threw herself backward into the bed and allowed her hands to drift to her stomach. Her trembling fingers gently explored the new, sloping landscape of the once-flat area, and after some hesitation, she began poking at it gently to guage it's density. It was firm, not flabby...but of course, deep down she knew it would be. Just like deep down she'd known all along, even though she had clung to every minute little shred of doubt for some hope that it wasn't true. One minute she would permit herselt to accept that she was, then the next she found herself trying to talk herself out of the belief again. The early stages had allowed her the opportunity to live in denial since some symptoms could easily be written off as signs of other illnesses. Also, spending a good deal of time focusing mainly on basic survival 101 and finding a good spot to settle down in had served as an effective distraction from having to think about it too much. But now, a growing stomach at a time when food was sparse, paired with the swelling breasts AND a still absent menstrual cycle? As it turned out, that morning was also the day that any and all room for denial was to be officially retired.

 _I'm pregnant. I. Am. Pregnant_. She couldn't stop the mental repetition of the phrase, allbeit with some minor variations at times, from looping in her brain. She'd spent the last month trying to deny the fact because she didn't want it to be true, and that was a horrible way for a woman who had tried to conceive muliple times in the past, and failed on all but one attempt, to feel about having a child. Especially when it was with a man whom she loved above all others, who would be one rock-star of a dad if given the chance. And she loved being a mom, and often regretted not being a better one, an unfair assessment she had conceived of herself in her grief-stricken mind, for Sophia. It was just that they lived in one, crazy fucked-up world right now, and the thought of potentially losing another child was too much to bear.

Just getting through this pregnancy was going to be a challenge, and for the first time since leaving the others behind, it finally began to sink in just how much the unexpected news had shaken her judgment abilities. This had to be the single, most assinine idea in the World Record of Bad Ideas book. OK, so she'd found herself a nice little house in the woods several miles out which seemed relatively safe, but what would happen in the event of a medical emergency? There was no one to help her if she became incapacitated, and she wouldn't even know where to go if she could manage to drag herself out for help. And she knew very well heading out that when it came time to have the baby, like Lori she would likely have to have a c-section. _Yeah, remember how that one turned out Carol?_ Even if she could manage to tear open her own stomach and save the baby before passing out from excruciating pain, who would be there to take care of him? _No one, that's who, you asshole_.

 _Just go back. Just pack up your shit, turn around, and go back_. The idea was tempting until the horrific images of Glenn and Abraham with their heads bashed in came back to mind. She hadn't been there to see it herself, but every time the subject came up, she saw the entire nauseating event through the eyes of Daryl's eternally tortured soul. He had only attmepted to give her details on one occasion, and had been unable to offer her little more than "there was just nothing left," before breaking down into a sob that drowned out any further attempts to communicate. She knew from the accounts of others that it was their heads that he had been referring to, and she was certain that this was one case where an individual bearing witness to the actual event did in fact see shit that was way more fucked up than what the imagination could conjure up, despite the notion that typically the opposite was true.

Perhaps her thinking hadn't been quite that poor after all. She was right that she had to get away for their safety, her and the baby, but the execution of her plan certainly left something to be desired. But to be fair, there really was no easy solution. There was no other known location she could go to find the safe sanctuary that she needed. If it was out there somewhere, she was going to have to find it, and that certainly wasn't going to happen hiding out in this little cabin, resting on her newly-inflated laurels. _Get your shit together, Carol, and get the hell out there and do what you do best: survive._

"Don't you worry, mommy is gonna get us both through this alive," she found herself murmuring aloud in a sweet, soothing voice. "Please don't listen to mommy when you hear her say silly things like she wishes you never happened, ok, because it's not true." At this point, tears began to stream from the corners of her eyes directly onto the mattress beneath her with such consistency that the area surrounding her head became saturated within seconds. "I'm already so in love with you," she continued to explain as she struggled to recompose herself and be the strong, fierce mama she knew she could be. "I promise you that everything is gonna turn out in the end, ok? I just need you to stay on board with me and be strong. Can you do that for me?" Despite knowing that it was still too early to sense any movement, she would have been willing to sweaar with her hand on a bible that at that very moment, she felt him move in response.

Him. Of course she didn't know for certain, and perhaps it was just wishful thinking coming into play, but for the first time she felt the same kind of cosmic connection to this child that she had felt when she was pregnant with Sophia, and she had been right about her gender too. Sophia. The memories of her daughter always made her smile, even through the pain, and now that smile was even wider knowing that if angels and the afterlife and the like were real, her daughter was one amongst many looking over them every step of the way. And she had always wanted a little brother! Regardless of whether or not she would get to watch from above, Sophia was now officially a big sister, and it warmed her heart knowing that her daughter's legacy would continue on a little longer than her own life expectancy now that she had a brother...or sibling to be fair until it was confirmed...who would keep her daughter's memory alive through the stories she would share.

Until she got her ass in gear however and actually found them a safe place to live, it was quite possible that all this daydreaming was for naught. She briefly considered turning around and just heading back home once more, but by her best guestimation, she was over a hundred miles away from Alexandria or any of it's friendly neighbors, and considering her delicate situation, a term which she normally would have found insulting to pregnant women in general but happened to be true in her situation, another 100 mile journey was absolutely out of the question. Complications in many forms were likely to start popping up right around the corner and if she didn't find a community with medical resources to befriend herself with soon...

 _Stop it, Carol. Don't even go there. You can do this, you know you can. You knew you could from the very beginning or you wouldn't have left. You've been protecting him all along...your son. Your and Daryl's son._

"Alright, kiddo. Are you ready to get this show on the road?"

Crossing her arms over her belly, she gave it a tight squeeze then sprung to her feet with renewed determination. She withdrew her backpack from the closet, exchanged her spare clothing still packed inside for whatever more adjustable clothing she could scrounge up from the closets, raided the kitchen cupboards for as much canned food as she could pack away in the remaining area, and headed out into the unknown once more.

She walked several miles back to the spot that had led her there in the first place. She had passed several signs in her journey directing her to a "scenic overlook" spot which she had decided to use in order to determine her next move. At the time when she'd initally visited the spot, she had been looking for a place offering solitude, but remembered one particularly enchanting-looking viewpoint where the sun's rays reflecting on the water made the river look like it ran glitter rather than regular old H2o. At the time she believed it to be too beautiful to be trusted, like a Garden of Eden type deal. Now, as she gazed upon it again, she decided to trust her gut this time and head toward what she thought for sure must be the sign of salvation beckoning to her. But it was always good also to get a second opinion first. This was where Daryl's mad tracking skills might come nicely into play. Granted she didn't have Daryl himself in the flesh, but she did have the next best thing: their son-slash-child.

"Ok, kiddo, what do you think," she inquired aloud with her hand pressed firmly to her stomach. "What would daddy do?"

What happened next was undoubtedly the most insane and productive meditation session she'd ever experienced in her life. Not only did the answers come to her, but she could actually hear Daryl's voice reasoning what her next move should be as if he was standing right next to her. _Go to the river. There will be established communities there because of the resources and food supply that it has to offer. Likely it's a place that it's people have fought to secure since the very beginning, so it will be established, safe._

Yes, that's where Daryl would go, and therefore so would she, and not only for the safe temporary sanctuary that it was sure to provide, but also for the guarantee that when he came looking for her, she would be exactly where he knew she would be.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Six Weeks Later Following Previous Chapter

 **The Sanctuary**

"Dinnertime, Fido," Dwight snickered as he tossed the sandwich consisting of two pieces of stale bread and a slice of canned dog food, the usual Sanctuary Dinner Special, at Daryl, who was seated on the floor of his cell attempting to shield his eyes from just the little bit of light that came flooding in upon the arrival of his visitors. For one who had just spent the past forty-eight hours in complete darkness, a lighted match would have provided enough light to make him squint at it's brightness. The sole working flourescent light in the hallway fixture out side his cell therefore was particularly blinding, so he didn't see the sandwich coming at him until just half a second before it hit him right in his face, which gave the two goons making the delivery quite a chuckle.

"Gavin, you're needed down in the rec center," Eugene's voice came through the walkie, just like Dwight knew it would, interrupting their little bit of fun.

"I'll be there in a minute. I'm on kennel patrol right now."

"Go ahead man, I got this. Fido here is in no shape to put up a fight," Dwight advised his partner.

Gavin nodded and dismissed himself, leaving the two remaining men alone to discuss business with Eugene playing lookout down the hall to ensure their privacy. With his unwitting cohort out of the way, Dwight withdrew a more appetizing sandwich consisting off eggs, spinach, and tomato that had been wrapped in aluminum foil out of the interior pocket of his jacket and handed it to, rather than tossing it at, Daryl.

"What the fuck, man? I told you you can't listen to Negan when he says shit like that. He doesn't have Carol, ok? Nobody knows where she is. Not your people, not the Saviors, nobody. You keep flying off the rails like that, next time Negan takes Lucille out on you, it'll be to your fuckin' head!"

"What am I s'posed to do, pretend like him sayin' shit like that, what he's doin' to her, doesn't bother me? You don't think Negan wouldn't see right through that shit," Daryl vented through an over-stuffed mouthful of egg sandwich.

"No, I don't because he's so full of himself that he honestly thinks he can break you."

"Nah, he wouldn't trust it, not from me unlike some of you other dumbass motherfuckers who caved. Besides, finding new ways to torture me is a distraction from what we got goin' on here."

"Yeah, well don't fool yourself into thinking he'll keep you around forever. I've seen what happens when he gets bored with his toys."

"Nah, man, not this one. Look, he even wrote his name in the bottom of my foot like I'm sheriff Woody or some shit." With that and his entire sandwich already devoured, Daryl raised his leg so that Dwight could get a look at Negan's artwork himself. The sick bastard had carved his name into the bottom of his foot good and deep enough that it was sure to leave a lasting scar spanning the rest of his entire life. Also sure to leave scars: the many tears to the flesh about Daryl's back and chest left by Lucille over the course of the past three months that made the ones left behind from his father's whippings years ago look like something accidentally created through child's play. Negan's latest delivery left his entire upper body heavily scabbed over, making just the slightest movements uncomfortable when doing so created new tears in his tight, healing flesh.

"So, Carol...she wasn't with the Oceanside people? Are you sure," Daryl needed to clarify since it was one of the very last hopes he had been clinging to, and especially since his hopes of getting more information from Maura had been smashed when she had been tragically killed in one of the Savior's raids on the Kingdom a couple of months ago. She had wanted to tell him something about Carol the day she had gone missing, and even though she had conceded that it was that she knew Carol had left, he knew that she had to have known something more. By the time he got the message to Rick to press her for more information, he had found out it was too late.

"Yes, I'm sure," Dwight answered, with obvious agitation

"You would tell me if somethin' did happen to her, right?"

"Probably not, cuz then you'd really be a useless pile of shit. But for the record, in Sherry's honor, I am telling you the truth right now."

"A'ight," Daryl nodded, satisfied with his response in that Dwight was telling the truth, and there was still hope that Carol was out there somewhere.

"Are you done yammerin' on about your old lady so we can talk business now?"

"Fuck you, you Freddy Kruger lookin' motherfucker," Daryl said, shooting him the old evil eye which was the best he could do given his current situation. Dwight was just lucky that he needed his help right now. It was the only thing preventing him from pile-driving his ass into the ground for that one.

Realizing that a comeback from him would only result in another from Daryl, Dwight passed on the opportunity to make a joke involvings tenderized meat and stick to discussing the next plan.

"We got it all worked out with Rick when and where the next attack will take place, and if everything goes as planned, this will be the last time you'll ever have to see my face."

"Well if that ain't motivation alone, I don't know what is."

"All you gotta do this time is tell Negan the truth about me. When he brings you out to make the exchange, all you do is tell him exactly what we've been up to, but you have to convince him that Eugene never played a part. He'll buy it cuz Eugene has been flawless, man. He plays the cowardly lion well, but that dude is really smarter than all of us put together. With you ratting me out, and acting all over-confident that we're gonna kick his ass this time, he'll trust Eugene's warning that we're leading him into a trap because he truly believes that Eugene is terrified of betraying him. Eugene will propose the alternate route to take which will in fact be the one that actually leads us directly into the ambush."

"The Scavengers are still a wildcard though. That Jadis chick is tough, and I still don't think she fully trusts Negan, 'specially after he already got a whole bunch of her people killed. If she protests a change of plans, things could go pretty bad for all of us."

Dwight nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it could. Or we could continue wasting time and keep letting Negan rebuild his army until we're outnumbered again. We gotta take our chances and strike now while the numbers are still in our favor. Besides, you know Rick better than me, and I'm pretty sure he's got a back-up plan if Jadis becomes a problem. Right?"

"Yeah, he does," Daryl agreed with a wry smile. "And knowing my people, they all do."

"Good, then try to get some sleep and be ready for tomorrow. Let's end this thing once and for all."

With Dwight's farewell, Daryl was left in the darkness once more, but with high hopes that it would be for the very last time. He also had every intention of heedind Dwight's advice. He did need to get his rest indeed for tomorrow was going to be quite eventful. Surely there would be a massive victory/reunion ceremony when every single one of the Saviors and Scavengers sorry asses were put out of their misery, but the rest would be needed more for later, when he would say his goodbyes and head out on the road in search for Carol, never resting again until he brought her back home safe and sound and knowing how much he loves her.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Same Timeframe as Previous Chapter

 **Somewhere in Northern Virginia**

"Whoa whoa WHOA! Daquan, stop the car!"

"Huh? Wha-"

"Just do it! Stop and backup about a hundred feet."

"Yes ma'am," the young, twenty-something, six-foot-four man replied with obedient enthusiasm to the barely five-foot-tall young lady who was five years his junior, sitting by his side. "You smellin' somethin' out there, Scout," he asked with his head thrown over his shoulder as he cautiously maneuvered the car in reverse. "I hope it's a warehouse full of candy."

"Not smelling anything. I saw somethin'," she replied quietly as her eyes worked hard to relocate what she thought she had seen in passing just moments before. "Right here. Stop!"

The car was just barely coming to a rest when she jumped out of the car with knife in hand and began bounding toward the woods.

"Hey! You think you might wanna give me a head's up back here," Daquan suggested in between breaths as he sprinted to catch up to her, but by the time he finished his sentence, Scout had already fallen to her knees beside the subject in question. There was a woman sitting there with her back propped up against one of the trees that lined the road.

"Here, honey, drink some water," she said with the sweet professionalism of a bonafide EMT worker as she clipped her canteen from her belt and held it to Carol's parched lips while her free arm supported her patient's head.

"How long have you been out here on your own, sweetie," she asked, really not expecting much of a response considering the woman's weakened condition, but more than anything looking to keep her awake and somewhat communicative until they could get her back to Riverview. "Daquan, bring the car up as close as you can. Quickly, please!"

He nodded and recognized the need to be swift when the woman suddenly began hyperventilating, prompting him to run as fast as his long legs would take him.

While Daquan fetched the car, Mackenzie AKA Scout, as she became known as through the years thanks to her many talents of that nature, began to unzip and remove the puffy, oversized, and totally unneccessary, considering the current weather, coat to give her patient some more breathing room. That's when she noticed the woman's very prominent, protruding stomach.

"Please, help my baby," Carol managed to mumble weakly with pleading eyes just before passing out altogether in Scout's arms.

"Oh shit, is she pregnant," Daquan asked upon arriving back at the site as he instinctively assisted Scout in transporting Carol to the car without waiting for further instruction.

"Yeah, she pretty much confirmed that if there was any doubt to begin with right before she passed out."

"You think she was looking for us/"

"Maybe. If she came from another community or camp or something though they couldn't have been nearby. It looks like she's been out on her own for some time."

With some very careful maneuvering, they managed to gently slide Carol into the back of the beat-up, but eternally reliable, old Chevy Caprice with Scout hopping in behind her as well to monitor her patient's stats for the duration of the trip back home.

"Hand me the receiver," she demanded politely as she flung her arm forward to grab the speaker device attached to the car's CB radio being handed to her. "Monique, this is Scout, do you copy?"

Barely two seconds later, a vivacious voice came crackling back in response. "Ooooh, girl! Tell me you found-"

"Monique we have an emergency," Scout interjected sternly but professionally, "I need you to find Dena right away, and let her know we're bringing in a woman, mid to late forties, pregnant, second, possibly third, trimester. Vitals currently are stable, but she's severely dehydrated and just lost consciousness a few minutes ago. Do you copy?"

"Copy, I'm on my way to go get her."

"OK, let her know our ETA is about twenty minutes."

"So she is stable," Daquan sought to confirm as he replaced the receiver on it's mount.

"Well, she's breathing. Her pulse is weak, but it's steady. It's this baby that I'm worried about. I'm not feeling any movement."

Daquan whipped his head around to witness Scout using both hands to survey the entire area of Carol's stomach for any sign of life.

"Jeeez, OK little one, I get it," Scout suddenly exclaimed with a bemused chuckle that was also evidently full of relief. "This kid was like uh-uh...don't you count me out just yet."

"Baby moved?"

"More than moved! Kicked the shit out of my hand! I think I'm gonna call this one Li'l Ass Kicker."

 **The Next Morning**

Carol's eyes fluttered open and were greeted by a hundred and one strange-yet-familiar images that instantly thrust her still-foggy brain into questioning which of her immediate memories were real, and which of them had been just some totally convuluted nightmare conjured up by her totally fucked-up psyche. The last time she had woken up in a bonafide hospital bed, it was because Ed had beaten her so bad-no, scratch that. Last time she woke up in a hospital bed, it was when she and Daryl had gone to Atlanta, in search of Beth and she got hit by that car. But that hospital room and this hospital room were different. It had been dark and dingy where this one was bright and airy, and clean to the point where she could still pick up the lingering scent of bleach. The entire scene in Atlanta was probably just one she dreamed up while laying here in her current stay, probably from whatever Ed did to her this time.

But looking down, she didn't see the tell-tale bruises on her arms. Also absent, the television and the numerous other obnoxious devices that typically only added to the discomfort of the entire hospitilization experience. What she did see however as she looked down toward the foot of her bed was a bit of a bump in the landscape. A baby bump.

"Oh God," she cried out as her hands instantly flew to her stomach in search of signs of life after the sight of her pregnant belly caused the fog to clear away.

"Don't worry, your baby is doing fine," the gentle voice came soaring in from an unexplored corner of the room. "Exactly the reason why you-not so much."

With that, Carol see the figure of the woman, probably about the same age as her, move toward her bed and begin fumbling with the bags of IV fluids dangling above her head.

"You're probably gonna have to drink about another dozen of these before you even think about getting out of that bed," she remarked matter-of-factly as she switched the drip from the nearly-empty bag of fluid to a full one. "How long were you out there on your own like that?"

Carol had about a zillion questions of her own that she'd have liked to have answered, but she found herself feeling completely at ease with this new stranger, and therefore willing to just shut the hell up and allow her to help.

"I don't know. Three months?"

"OK, so you haven't been out there alone, like, since the beginning, right? You did live in a community?"

"Yes," Carol nodded, tearing up as memories of her family came to mind.

"OK, what happened? Why did you leave?"

"He happened," Carol said with a dreamy smile as her hands caressed her stomach.

"You found out you were pregnant and you left? With nowhere to go? What the hell were you thinking?"

Carol's instinct would have been to bark back in defense of her actions, but when she had found herself asking herself that very same question repeatedly over the course of the last few months, she couldn't find adequate grounds to stand on.

"I wasn't," she finally replied, "not clearly anyway. But I didn't see a way for me to stay either."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. I mean, most communities we've come to befriend over the years are usually pretty tight amongst their own."

"We are. We're very close, all of us. They're my family."

"Then why did you leave at a time like this? And why didn't anyone come with you?"

"Let's just say, it was just really, really bad timing." When Carol could see that response didn't suit her apparent doctor enough, she continued to elaborate. "My people-we're at war with another community. We already lost people by the dozens. Some were from other communities who joined in the fight, others were my own family...I just had to give this little one the best possible chance I could at surviving, and all I knew was, it wasn't there. Not that my people wouldn't do everything they could to protect me-they would. Every single one of them would, and I would do it for them, and I wouldn't even think before I tried..and that's what terrifies me the most. And this is especially true with his daddy. We would sacrifice our own safety to protect the other...we've already been there, done that a zillion times over. I just don't want any one of us to die before we even get the chance to be a family."

"So based on what you're telling me, I take it he doesn't know."

"No, he doesn't know," she confirmed as tears began streaming down her cheeks. "If I had told him, he would have wanted to come with me, and I couldn't take him away from the family. They need him too. It's Daryl and Rick and I that have been the ones seeing us through from the very beginning. Not trying to sound like I'm full of myself here or anything, but losing Daryl and I both in this fight would be catastrophic for them."

"I'm sorry if I came off as judgmental. Hearing your story, I do understand now why you left. I guess I just didn't realize things were still that bad out there for others. It was rough here in the very beginning and for a few years following, but relations with our surrounding communities eventually got better and we haven't had any problems with anyone at all going on several years now."

"Overconfidence can come back to bite ya, you know," Carol said with a smirk as she shifted herself into a new position seeking better comfort.

"We don't let down our guard here if that's what you're worried about. I know you didn't get to see us from the outside, but we are surrounded by sturdy walls with well-trained guards on duty twenty-four-seven. We don't take anything for granted here."

"Where is here anyway?"

"Actually, I thought it might be nice to start with names first," the lady playing doctor said as she lowered the side rail on Carol's bed and took a seat on the edge. "My name is Dena, and I think you'll actually be quite relieved to know that I was actually a licensed, practicing obstetrician in my former life. Now, I'm still practicing at least, but I hope you don't mind that my license has expired."

"I dunno, do I have any other options," Carol asked with a wrinkle of her nose in feigned disgust.

"Well, as far as licenses go, I'm afraid not, but if you'd prefer to have someone else overseeing the care of you and your baby, I can introduce you to a few very qualified individuals."

"So this is like a real hospital," Carol said as she craned her neck around to get a better look, specifically to what whatever may lie right outside the door to her room.

"Well, yeah, it was. And this actually was the very hospital where I delivered most of my patient's babies."

Carol looked at her as if the woman's nose had grown over a foot long. "You mean to tell me you never left the area where you lived?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much everyone's reaction to my story," Dena replied with a forced smile that led Carol to believe that Dena's situation was probably more of a curse than a blessing. "Except of course for the few that were with me from the very beginning. But that's a story for another time. I've already got you talking much more than I care to have you doing right now. You need to get your rest, but before you do that, you still haven't told me your name."

"Carol," she replied with a smile as she allowed her head to settle back down into the fluffly pillow behind it.

Smiling back, her doctor reached over, grabbed her hand, and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Well Carol, welcome to Riverview."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Same Timeframe as Previous Chapter

 **The Kingdom**

"You know I'm never gonna let you go, right," Maggie mumbled in Daryl's ear as she hugged him as closely as her nine month pregnant belly would allow her to get. "I haven't seen you in forever, and I know if I do you're gonna leave again."

Daryl pushed her away gently, but just enough to he could look her in the eyes without fully breaking free from the embrace. It had been one hell of a crazy-emotional day for everyone; the Saviors were officially done for, with the exception of Negan who somehow managed to slither away under a rock somewhere, and for the first time in nearly a year's time, the fam could actually just focus on the future and each other rather than what the next course of attack was going to be. It felt like eons since he'd actually spoken to Maggie, or anyone for that matter, and a good brotherly-sisterly pow-wow between the two of them was long overdue.

"Doesn't mean that I'm not through with Negan. I'm still gonna take him down, you know."

Maggie shook her head in disapproval. "It's over, Daryl. Negan's done. His people are gone. Even if he tried to rebuild what he had at the Sanctuary, it would take years. And he won't come after us again, he won't. In fact, I very highly doubt he'd show his face anywhere within a hundred miles of this place. You have to let it go now. We won. We took care of the threat, and now it's time we take care of ourselves. And that's exactly what Glenn would want."

Daryl nodded and hugged her tightly again. It was true, that would be exactly what Glenn would want, but what Glenn wanted and Daryl wanted had often been completely different things, even when sharing the same, common end goal. It didn't make one of them right and the other wrong, they were just two very different people with two very different outlooks on life, and neither one of them would have wanted the other to change their ways. Glenn would also know that Daryl would be eternally plotting Negan's demise regardless of what anyone said, but he didn't dare share those thoughts with Maggie. He was pretty sure she already knew that deep down anyway.

"I wish you would stay to meet your niece or nephew. It might only have to be like an extra fifteen minutes or so you know," she said, chuckling toward the end of her statement where she referenced the fact that she was pretty much ready to pop at any given minute. "But I know you have to go."

"She's out there somewhere, alive. I know she is."

"I know, I feel it too," Maggie agreed in her charming little southern girl-next-door voice. "But I still can't help but think that she must be in danger if she is. I know she's had her struggles with the things we have to do sometimes, but she had got past that, and she wouldn't have just walked away from us in the middle of a war. I gotta say it one more time, I don't think you should be going out there looking for her alone."

"There's a lot of area to cover considering we don't have a clue where she went. She's gonna have a lot of people looking for her now. Rick and Michonne and Carl...they're not gonna stop looking either, and I'm pretty sure Ezekiel and Jerry got plans to go lookin' too. You know me, I gotta follow my own gut."

"I know. And if anyone's gonna find her, it's going to be you. Just please, please, please, please, PLEASE...be careful."

"I will," he said as he found himself being reeled back in for one, final goodbye squeeze.

"I love you, sweetie," she said just before giving him one, innocent little peck on the cheek and releasing him from her embrace once and for all. "You come back safe to us, ok?"

"Yeah," he stated simply with a nod, feeling just a tad bit uneased by her use of the 'L word.' Of course he knew it was just in a brotherly-sisterly sense, but it didn't make it any less awkward. The word just hadn't been used in his own vocabulary much, basically because no one in his blood family had cared to growing up, at least not in reference to people. His family had used the term over lots of things like money- which they didn't have but loved the idea of, booze- which they had a bit too much of, and NASCAR, which for the record he personally despised, but people? He was pretty sure his father had never said it to any one of them, his mama- he did sorta remember her at least being a bit more affectionate with him when he was very small, but by the time he had started kindergarten she had begun drinking so heavily that any trace left of that person got drowned out by the alcohol.

Now Merle was a different story. Merle did say it frequently, problem was, when he did, it was usually because he wanted something and therefore it came with all kinds of expectations and conditions. And seeing how the word could be so easily misused and abused, he had vowed he would never in his life use it so irresponsibly. He refrained from saying that he loved 'things' because that was just stupid. Things don't love you back. But people...yeah, he would make it a point to tell a person that as long as it were true but, for most of his adult life, he either didn't encounter anyone worthy of the word, or if he did he was just too terrified of it's potential power to use it. Bottom line was, there was always an excuse for not saying it.

As far as relationsips went, the majority of the women in his playing field pretty much wanted just one thing, and that was to lock down some poor unsuspecting dude into being their meal-ticket for life. He steered clear of these women because he'd seen it happen to at least a dozen of his buddies. You get some chick knocked-up because she claims to be madly in love with you and then shit, next thing you know she's gone and filing for child-support before the kid is even born and already putting moves on her next victim. Before you know it, she's got five different kids from five different guys and she's out partying and doing drugs while these poor kids are getting left with various friends and relatives and zero stability in their lives whatsoever. That was just how things were when you fell into the poor, white, trailer-trash category. Of course it didn't help one bit that as miserable and self-loathing that he was, he really didn't try to do anything to better his situation, but why even try when that was all that you were ever meant to be? At least that was the way he used to feel about things.

He did have relationships of course, and significant ones lasting at least a year or as many as three, in one case. Heck, he wanted to find true love and the happily-ever-after, and have the two-point-five kids with the little white house with the picket fence and the dog, but it just hadn't been meant to be. At some point during these relationships, six total counting everything from age eighteen on, either she would figure out she was too good for him and end it, or he had come to the conclusion himself that he was not good enough for her, which had been the case for the last four consecutive break-ups, and mostly because he was secretly terrified of commitment even though it was something he thought he wanted.

Talking about the possibility of marriage was frightening enough, that was usually enough cause for him to end it right there, but there was a topic even more terrifying: becoming a dad. Again, not because he didn't want to. He just didn't want to become his dad. If only he had known then what he knew now...that you as an individual do have the power to change your own destiny, he might have done it. He might have cleaned himself up and got himself a real job, and probably would have asked Missy out of them all to be his wife. They coulda had a couple of kids, which she later did, and lived something like the life he thought he wanted then. But that was then, and this is now, and getting the opportunity to be a dad was probably out of the question now, which was fine. Maybe it was his destiny all along to be something better anyway: cool, uncle Daryl who will one day teach Little Ass-Kicker and Mini-Rhee how to take out walkers with his crossbow while riding on the back of his bike.

He chuckled aloud at the thought which broke his little reverie in enough time to catch Maggie before she got too far off.

"Maggie," he called out to her as he made his way toward her to save her the few steps back to hear what was on his mind.

"Yeah," she replied, smiling sweetly as she whipped around to face him.

"We were supposed to talk about Dwight, remember." It was true, he did just remember the topic they had initially met to discuss all along, but it was also meant to serve as a segue into another another bit of unfinished business.

"Right. Well, uh, sweetie, you do what you feel is right, but for me, I don't want him at Hilltop is all I will say. Whether or not you want him in Alexandria-"

"No way. If I don't kill him in his sleep the first night, Tara would. Kingdom is his only option, and I think Ezekiel oughtta be able to make the final call."

"OK. You gonna tell Rick or should I?"

"I will. Gotta go finish saying my goodbyes."

"OK, so long as it's not goodbye forever."

"You kidding? I gotta come back and meet Mini Rhee."

"That's right, you do. But sooner rather than later, ok?"

"That is the plan."

"Mini Rhee...I like that. I'll be sure to tell him or her that's what Uncle Daryl named them."

"K. Don't forget the fist-bumps and kisses from Uncle Daryl too."

"I won't."

"Hey Maggs," Daryl called after her when she began to make her turn back toward the square. "I love you too, kiddo."

"I know," she replied with a wink and a blown kiss in his direction before trotting back to join the others in celebration of their victory.

He let out a deep sigh of relief as he watched Maggie walk away smiling contently. It wasn't nearly as hard as he thought it would be, you know, saying the whole "L word" thing, and it had come from that sacred place of sincerity which he held in such high esteem. And if it had been that easy to say it to Maggie just now, he knew that when it came to Carol, it was going to be a piece of cake. Maybe it was no flaw on his behalf that had previously rendered him unable to say it to one of his partners before. Maybe somehow he knew all along that it should be reserved for that one special person that simply had not come into his life just yet.

Why he had continued to struggle with it for so long after realizing he had feelings for her he wasn't sure. He knew she loved him too, and that the feeling had been mutual for quite some time. His best explanation was that fear was still getting the better of him only this time it was a different kind of fear. It wasn't because he felt inferior in some way, or that she was just some evil bitch trying to take advantage of him. No, it was clear to him now that the reason was he had been scared to death of acknowledging that she was the one, certain that the moment he did, the the next thing he knew he would end up losing her to whatever nasty trick this cruel new world had in store for him next.

Then, a horrible thought occurred to him. What if this was said nasty trick, and Carol was already a goner before he had the chance to tell her how he felt? The thought of that was way worse than the alternative that had kept him from telling her that he was in love with her of all of these years. Years. Plural. God, what a stupid, fuckin' idiot he had been.

The following meeting with Rick and Michonne was brief for he'd wasted much too much time in getting on the road already. _Yes, Dwight can stay at the Kingdom. No, I don't need anyone to come with me,_ and _I'll be home when I find her cuz I'm not coming home without her._ Those were his last words to anyone before hopping onto his bike and heading west in the path Carol was likeliest to take in finding whatever she went searching for that day. He had dreamed up about a hundred and one possible scenarios explaining her departure, but chances were if he were given a hundred and one guesses more, he never would have come up with anything lose to the answers which laid in store.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Same Timeframe as Previous Chapter

 **Riverview**

Carol was still in her hospital bed only this morning, the back was raised up as far as it would go allowing her to be in a completely upright sitting position. She didn't dare try getting out of bed again until Dena gave her the green light, an act that had earned her scoldings from her doc and newfound friend on a few prior occasions, even though Dena had pretty much promised that today, as long as her vitals had continued to improve at the rate they had been over the course of the last four days, she would be free to roam the halls at her own will.

She had only been awake for a few minutes, and likely it had been the aroma of breakfast cooking across the hall that had awaken her from her slumber. Yesterday it had been eggs, bacon, and toast with blackberry jam, and she had to say that it was the best damn eggs, bacon, and toast with blackberry jam that she'd ever had in her entire life. Of course that was because everything from the chicken to the egg and beyond was fresh and organic and free of preservatives and dyes and whatever other weird shit the FDA had allowed to go into your food before, except for the bacon of course which was cured with salt in the traditional manner, but that was ok. Bacon had always been one of the things that had been an exception to the rule, even back in the day when she went out of her way, and sometimes above budget, to provide healthier options for her family. The only thing that had been missing from the best dang meal she'd had in years was the coffee. Even an agricultural expert probably couldn't find a way to cultivate it's growth in the greater part of North America, and their mututal love and lamentation for the sacred coffee bean was just one more thing, silly as it was, that she and Dena had strengthened their rapidly-growing bond over.

The most significant connection however had come through the shared stories of their daughters with the shared name: Sophia. But the similarities between their daughters didn't begin and end with just having the same moniker. They had been close in age as well, they were both the only child, and they both succumbed to a heartbreaking fate very early on at the hands of walkers, when they as mothers in the new world were still too inexperienced and terrified when it came to dealing with the undead to do anything about it. Of course they had both lost their husbands too, but only one of them had found herself devastated by that loss as well and, needless to say, it wasn't Carol.

This was also when Dena was told all about Daryl, and how his determination to find Sophia went above and beyond any act of kindness and selflessness, real or fictional even, that Carol had ever witnessed in her entire life. It was bittersweet that Sophia's disappearance had been the event that would alter Daryl's life forever, but it wasn't her death that had changed things. Daryl alone was one hundred percent responsible for the transformation which began manifesting itself the day her daughter vanished into the woods. It was then that Daryl Dixon decided what kind of person he wanted to be moving forward. It was his metamorphisis which inspired her to make a similar choice, but she was pretty sure that Glenn and Rick had been the ones who had started it all by creating the mold that served as the foundation for those of them who endured.

Daryl. It was no surprise that her train of thought drifted back to him once more. Every morning since her arrival at Riverview, with the exception of the first day when she woke up barely knowing who she was let alone where, before she was even awake enough to process what she was doing, she would open her eyes with her head already tilted toward the chair sitting at her bedside. A couple of the times Dena had been sitting there, the other times the chair had been vacant; either way, her heart would sink when she realized that the visions of Daryl sitting there at her bedside had only been a dream. She was sure however that one morning she would wake up and he would be there, just like he magically appeared to her when she was staying in the little cabin by the cemetery outside the Kingdom, when she was 'taking a break.' She'd fantasized at least a dozen times that the next time she answered a knock on her door it would be Daryl rather than Ezekiel and Jerry coming to check on her, bearing leftover cobbler for the zillionth time. Needless to say, when it actually happened that way, she wasn't satisfied that it really was him until he passed the squeeze test, which was basically her hugging him so tightly that only an actual human wouldn't disappear into a puff of smoke.

The rest of her day, for the past four that she was actually coherent, between numerous naps where the morning 'Where's Daryl' wake-up routine was mimicked, she would either be talking with Dena where they covered just about every topic under the sun in between the obvious important doctor-patient stuff, or talking to the baby while her eyes stayed glued to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Daryl pulling up on his bike outside, just like she was doing right now.

"No, sweetheart your mommy is not crazy. He'll be here soon though, he will. He'll find us."

"Knock knock," Dena announced in lieu of performing the actual task warning her arrival, apparently due to the fact that her hands were currently occupied wheeling in some yet unidentified piece of medical equipment which caused Carol to frown.

"What's that look for," Dena asked, feigning a wounded look of her own.

"I thought you were coming with breakfast," Carol replied in all seriousness.

"Slow down there, Nellie, your breakfast will be ready soon, I promise. Actually, I think you're going to enjoy what I have in store for you right now quite a bit more."

"That's gotta be an old doctor's joke, right?"

"Are you going to keep giving me a hard time, or do you want to see your baby?"

Carol's mouth momentarily gaped wide open before she was able to spit out, "Is that-"

"An ultrasound machine? Yup!"

"You've had one all this time and you made me wait this long to see my baby," Carol scolded with maybe one percent of actual outrage. She was simply too excited about getting to see her baby now then to get mad about any former injustices.

"I didn't want to do one until I felt you were one hundred percent out of the woods, well, at least not when you were awake to realize it."

Carol nodded understandingly. "So you've seen my baby. And I'm assuming if you're about to let me see him now, that means he's perfect, right?"

"Before I answer that, do you want me to confirm whether it's a boy or a girl?"

"No," she found herself whispering before the whole thought-initiating process even took place, but when it did, the first thing that came to mind was, 'not without Daryl.' It was going to be a bittersweet moment. Yes, she wanted to see her baby, she needed to see him, just so she could see with her own two eyes that his little, tiny heart was beating, and there were indeed two arms and two legs complete with fingers and toes intact. But she also wanted to preserve whatever moments she could salvage to share with Daryl at a later date when he arrived.

"OK then, so for the record, from now on when I discuss your baby with you, I will be referring to the baby as 'he' based solely on the fact that that is how you prefer to refer to him. In no way am I confirming or denying that you're having a boy. Understood?"

"Yes, Doc," Carol replied with a forlorn smile as she began hiking her gown up above her stomach without waiting for the instruction to do so.

"Alright then, are you ready for baby tv?"

As Carol nodded, Dena squeezed a small mound of the ultrasound gel onto her stomach, switched on the monitor, then ABRACADABRA! Before she knew it, her baby was on the screen with a swipe of the magic wand.

"So, to answer your question from earlier, as of right now your baby is absolutely perfect. He's just the right size and weight that he should be, and that is determined beautifully by the fact that you were able to pinpoint the actual date of conception for me, thank you very much for that! Heart rate is good, everything with the baby looks really good right now."

"You keep saying right now," Carol noted intuitively, but of course she knew where this was going all along. She had already been through this with Sophia, and it was a common reproductive challenge that just happened to plague almost every one of her female blood relatives on the maternal side of her family.

"The Placenta Previa has developed again. As you are well aware it's treatable, but we're just going to have to keep a very close eye on it. No more running off into the woods on your own for you. You're going to stay right here under my watchful eye, missy. I don't want you to be bedridden, but you are going to get your 8 hours of sleep every night with plenty of naps throughout the day, and no exercise or overexertion of any kind, you understand me?"

Carol understood quite perfectly, actually, recalling the time she had nearly bled to death as a result of exactly what stress could do to complicate the already serious gestational abnormality where the opening to the cervix is covered by the placenta, making a normal, vaginal birth a near impossibilty as going into labor causes the placenta to tear in preparation for birth, which can cause a massive amount of blood loss in a very small window of time. Pre-term labor is also highly likely to occur and is easily triggered by stress. The morning Sophia was born, she and Ed had been fighting right before he'd left for work because she had left her dirty coffee mug in the kitchen sink rather than load it into the dishwasher right away. The fight hadn't even turned physical, she just received a good verbal berating for it which had upset her to the point of triggering an early labor. Thirty minutes later, she was crawling on her knees from her bathroom to the bedroom trailing puddles of blood along with her in a desperate attempt to reach the phone to call for help. An hour after that, she was laid up in the ICU on life-support, sucking up pints of blood as fast as her body could take it while a six-week premature Sophia fought for her own life in the NICU.

"And I don't care how insignificant you feel some weird little twinge might be, you march your butt right over here and let me check you out. I don't care if it's three in the morning and you have to hold me upside down by the ankles to wake me up. Actually, wait, scratch that, don't do that cuz you're not to be lifting anything heavy either, but you catch my drift, right?"

"Right," Carol mumbled as she looked at her genuinely concerned doc...friend...adoringly.

"AH-HA! So THIS is the Li'l Ass Kicker," a boisterous, loud voice came from the doorway, startling both women simultaneously.

"Mackenzie, please! It's barely seven AM and most of the waking world is not quite ready for you just yet," Dena mock-scolded the teenage girl who came bounding through the door in a beeline to the monitor displaying little baby Dixon.

"What did you just call my baby," Carol asked with equal amounts of disbelief evident in both her voice and facial expression.

"I apologize for my daughter. She has her own very unique way with words." Of course Carol already knew all about Mackenzie AKA Scout, though she hadn't yet had the privelege of putting the face to the name of the girl who had rescued her who also happened to be Dena's 'adopted' daughter.

"Sorry ma'am if you're not the cussin' type. I didn't mean any disrespect by it-" Mackenzie-slash-Scout apologized with genuine sincerity, and a little embarrassment over her potentially inappropriate behavior.

"I'm not offended," Carol was quick to interject in effort to let Mackenzie off the hook. "Little Ass Kicker was it?"

"Yeah," Mackenzie replied, releasing a huge sigh of relief followed by a shy giggle. "I called your baby that cuz when we were bringing you back here, I was feeling your stomach to see if I could feel any movement. As soon as I made the remark to my friend that I hadn't, little bugger gave a good, strong kick right where my hand was. I dunno, L'il Ass Kicker just seemed fitting at the time."

Carol just shook her head in amazement the entire time Mackenzie was explaining the nickname she had bestowed upon her child. What were the chances she would run into someone else over a hundred miles away who could speak Dixonese? And it was so curious to her that this mini-Daryl in female form's closest ally was someone who reminded her so much of herself. It made her wonder that if every community out there had a Carol and Daryl and Rick and Michonne, etc., etc., in some form or another.

"Do you want me to tell you an interesting story about why I reacted to 'Little Ass Kicker' the way I did," Carol inquired of the girl who had already been endeared to her heart long before they were even formally introduced.

Mackenzie nodded, grinning broadly as she took the seat on the edge of the bed that Carol had designated for her by the pat of her hand.

"The baby's daddy...he gave that very same nickname to a baby that was born to one of ours, our group, I mean. He still calls her that to this day."

"Really," the girl inquired with overly-exaggerated arched brows that expressed her genuine curiosity.

"You mean to tell me there is another Mackenzie out there," Dena interjected jokingly.

"What happened to him? Is he OK? The baby's daddy?"

For some reason, Carol had been completely unprepared for that question. Of course she had thought as much, that Daryl was fine that is, all along, probably because she simply didn't wish to consider any other alternative, but the question did prompt her into providing the most honest, accurate answer she could give, well-deserved for the person who was one-hundred percent responsible for initally saving her and her baby's life.

"I don't know," she found herself responding to her own horror, just before breaking down into a steady sob that rendered her inconsolable for the next several minutes.

After pulling herself together following some gentle reminders from Dena how stress was not good for her situation, she began to explain her cause for the brief moment of hysteria.

"I just don't know," she began her fresh attempt at answering Mackenzie's question in a soft voice that was just barely above a whisper. "Our people...we were at war with another community, that's why I left. I thought it was close to being over. I kept thinking all along he was going to come find me when it was safe to come home, and every day I was out there I thought that would be the day. I didn't even realize how far I drifted away from home. I just don't know what to think. Is he not finding me because I got too far away, or is it because the war is still not over, or-"

"You know what? I think now would be a good time for that breakfast, what do you think," Dena interrupted with a comforting pat to Carol's shoulder. "I even put in a request for extra bacon this morning."

Carol nodded appreciatively, understanding Dena's motivation for changing the subject. She needed to focus on staying healthy for this baby, or all of the sacrifices she'd made to secure whatever future she could for her family would be for naught. And this was especially true if the unthinkable had indeed happened. Daryl would want her to do everything possible to protect their child.

As Carol allowed herself to sink back into her pillow and shut her eyes for the few moments before breakfast was served, Mackenzie followed her mother into the kitchen across the way.

"I want to go looking for him," she stated with a bold determination in her voice that made Dena stop dead in her tracks.

"No," Dena replied with all the superior firmness of a supreme court judge, and without turning around to actually witness the look of disappointment her answer was sure to cause.

"You said yourself she desperately needs a stress-free environment. How exactly can you be stress-free when you don't know if the man you love is dead or alive?"

"Don't underestimate Carol," Dena said sharply, turning around to finally face her daughter with hands-on-hips. "She's a tough cookie, and she's already been through a helluva lot worse. She's already lost a daughter. Trust me, I know from personal experience that there is nothing worse than that, and I sure as hell don't want to lose another one, ok?"

Mackenzie nodded agreeably, deciding to humor her mother at least for the moment. She was definitely right about Carol, she had indeed proven to be the kind of chick who could take care of herself, but if Carol was really as much like her mother as she suspected her to be, then more likely she had spent much of the past few years putting others best interests first. It was those personality types that she had her own personal, preferential fondness for, and therefore, when it came to doing something special for Carol, she wasn't prepared to take no for an answer.

Not that she would go against her mother without permission. Without Dena her own world would fall apart therefore she was well aware of the ramifications of a vice-versa scenario. She would simply have to work extra hard to receive her mother's blessing, so from that day forward she began strategically planning which buttons of her mothers to push, and in what order, until her mother gave her the green light to go on a little road trip to Alexandria to find Li'L Ass Kicker's dad.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Two and a half Months Later Following Previous Chapter

Riverview

Carol grinned like the proud mama that she already was at the image of her baby boy displayed on the ultrasound monitor. He already looked like Daryl to her and the bigger he grew the more it appeared that motherhood would indeed be a reality for her once again, barring any major catastrophe that might arise between now and then of course. It could happen, but she also had a great deal of faith in Dena

For the past few months, she had worked alongside her professionally, and had witnessed first-hand just how capable her doctor was of handling emergencies of all kinds, but of course the baby stuff had been the high point for her based on her own personal interests. In addition to being there, and eventually aiding in, just about every natural birth that occurred, she had been present for all three out of three performed C-sections since her arrival there, and every one had gone smoothly, even the very last one in which she herself had made the incision with just a little guidance from Dena's own hand. But there had been times where things had gone wrong, and as capable as Dena was, sometimes you just couldn't do shit to prevent whatever other ideas the world had planned for you. FOr that reason alone it was simply too soon to start counting her little chick before it even hatched.

"Well, here we are. Thirty-one weeks and your little guy is still looking just perfect, which amazes me considering his mother is stubborn as a mule and doesn't do a damn thing I ask her to."

Carol rolled her eyes at the pair of Dena's beady brown ones staring her down accusingly over thick, tortoise-shell rimmed glasses.

"That is absolutely not true," she responded defensively. "I take my vitamins, I'm eating like a damn horse twenty-four-seven, and I am getting plenty of rest."

"I call bullshit on the rest thing. Look, I told you...you are not obligated to do anything to 'earn your keep' here. The only reason I even suggested you might want to get involved with some of our programs here was, I hoped it would help take your mind off some things as well as teach you a few new skills you could take home with you when you head back to Alexandria."

"I know that," Carol replied matter-of-factly, returning Dena's stern glare with one of her own. "Frankly I'm offended that you're insinuating I'm only helping out because I feel I owe it to you in some way."

"I didn't mean to come off like that. I know you genuinely enjoy all the work you've been doing here, and I realize that you really want to learn as many medical skills as you possibly can to take back home with you. But you can do that after the baby comes too. Nobody is going to kick you out on your ass right after you give birth. You can stay as long as you like you know."

"I know," Carol mumbled quietly, her thoughts drifting a million...or more accurately, one hundred...miles away.

"I guess I just can't understand why then, when I say the best thing for you and your baby right now is rest rest rest, that you insist upon continuing to work and end up falling asleep in that stupid chair looking out the window every night. I'm happy you made it this far without any complications, but complications are right around the corner just waiting to pop up at any moment with the baby growing so fast now. If you go into labor now, I'm not so sure we can stop it, and while thirty-one weeks is not too shabby, I'd be a lot happier with thirty-six or thirty-seven."

"I have to. I have to keep myself busy or I'll go crazy," Carol replied, forcing an apologetic smile that was as much for her own benefit as it was for Dena's. "The more time I allow myself to think about what might have happened, the more horrific the picture becomes."

Dena Knew she was referring to the outcome of the war that Carol's people had found themselves thrust into right before she left. When she had first arrived at Riverview, she seemed confident that things had probably ended already and in their favor, but as months passed and there was still no sign of Daryl, the only thing Carol could possibly be certain of now was that something must have gone horribly wrong.

"You're a long way from home, and you didn't exactly tell anyone where you were going. You have to consider that if he is out there somewhere searching for you, maybe he just didn't start out looking in the right direction."

"Maybe you're right," Carol said as she nodded over-emphatically, to the point of appearing mentally unstable. "Or, maybe you're wrong and he and everyone else that I love is dead."

She barely was able to squeak out the last sentence before anguish took hold of her and consumed her voice and devoured the single thread that had been holding everything else together for the past few months now. Of course she'd already considered the fact that Daryl and the others may be dead a hundred times, but somehow saying it out loud made it seem all the more a realistic possibility...or at this point, probability.

"You can't think like that," Dena found herself suggesting quickly as she watched the numbers displaying Carol's blood pressure figures which she had been monitoring all along as part of the routine exam about double in no time at all the moment Carol broke into an uncontrollable sob. Of course she had suspected things hadn't gone quite so well for the Alexandrians for some time now, but she didn't dare even consider sharing her own thoughts on the subject with Carol until after the baby was born, only it was now becoming more and more apparent that perhaps the topic of discussion simply couldn't wait until then. Carol needed answers, even if they weren't quite the ones she was seeking. More than anything, it was the unknown that was doing a job on her, and also held the potential to affect her baby now too.

Dena shook her head at her own stupidity. She had held the power all along to at least find out what happened, something her daughter had been giving her endless grief about for months now, but instead she had found herself sharing Carol's belief that Daryl was just going to swoop in on his motorcycle one day and then they would live on happily-ever-after, yadda yadda yadda. She wanted it to happen that way for her friend's sake, after all, the proposed reunion would be like something straight out of a good chick flick, and how cool would it be to actually witness something so uber-romantic between two, real, living/breathing souls as opposed to watching Sleepless in Seattle on DVD for the hundredth time? But real-life didn't happen that way, and anyone still living/breathing in this day and age should be wise enough to know that. Your ass was just lucky to be alive, so count your blessings and spare the romantic bullshit. And certainly don't go risking your own life by sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong.

"Carol, I need you to do me a favor, ok," Dena said soothingly as she took a seat on the edge of the bed and put a comforting arm around her freind's shoulder, focusing on the more serious matter at hand for the moment. "I want you to close your eyes, and I want you to imagine Daryl riding his bike, with that long hair of his you described whipping around in the wind while he's out there looking for you."

Although the tears didn't immediately stop, her calming method was at least beginning to have the desired affect on her patient. At the mere mention of Daryl's name had come a smile, and the image that she had requested Carol conjure up was likely the source of her steadily dropping BP numbers.

"As he's driving around, he passes a sign that says 81 North, which will bring him right here. Can you see it?"

She was much calmer now. Tears still streamed from the corners of her tightly, squeezed shut eyes, but her breathing had slowed to nice, steady deep breaths as the smile on her face only continued to grow. She was composed enough now to reply to Dena's inquiry with a nod.

"You just keep picturing that sweetie, alright?"

Dena didn't leave her until she was certain that Carol had in fact fallen asleep and was likely to remain in that state undisturbed by any movement on her part. Once she was able to sneak away undetected, she recruited Emmy to keep an eye on her while she slipped away to take care of some long overdue business.

"Daquan, this is Dena, do you copy," she spoke into the walkie she had just retrieved off of her belt clip from right outside the hospital's main doors.

"Yes, ma'am," the familiar voice she sought responded promptly.

"I know my daughter is still not speaking to me, so would you tell her that I'd like to see the both of you at the hospital entrance, pronto please?"

"We'll be right there, Miss Dena, if I have to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder."

Less than five minutes later, the odd couple pair appeared from around the corner, arriving in the very same manner that Daquan had proposed may be the case.

"What do you want, woman," Mackenzie grumbled at Dena after delivering a not-so-playful elbow jab to the stomach of Daquan once being returned to a more dignified, upright position on her own two feet.

"OK," was the one-word answer given by Dena that was all that Mackenzie needed to hear to understand what it was in reference to.

"Is Carol ok," was the first thing Mackenzie had to know before she could start celebrating her mother's sudden change of heart since something had obviously happened to make Dena budge on the subject she'd been badgering her about for months now.

"Right now she is, but the constant worrying about her home is taking it's toll. She broke down today. I haven't seen her like that since when she first came here. I should have known this has all been weighing harder on her than she would ever let on. I thought if we could at least find out what's going on over there-"

"Oh, YOU thought that, did ya," Mackenzie interrupted, shooting Dena a look of utter disbelief.

"You should probably just go before I change my mind because I still don't like the idea of this one little bit."

"I'm gone," Mackenzie informed, heeding the complimentary forewarning for something she was fully aware that Dena was perfectly capable of doing with the flip of a switch.

"Wait. Before you go, so you're not out there running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, you should probably talk to Carol and find out exactly-"

"I already know where it is, mom. I had Carol draw me a map of exactly where her community was, just so I'd know how to get there if you waited too long to make up your damn mind."

"I hope you didn't go making promises to Carol-"

"I didn't," Mackenzie interrupted defensively. "I would't go and get her hopes up like that unless I was prepared to do it. What kind of an evil wench do you think I am?"

"The kind who gives her mother a hard time, just because she loves her so much, and doesn't want to send her daughter into the middle of a war zone."

"I'll be careful," Mackenzie said as she threw her arms around Dena's neck and hugged her tight.

"I know you will. There's no way in hell I would let you go otherwise."

"I'll bring extra protection. Kevin said he would go with us too whenever we got the green light. You know he can filet creepers with that sword of his with his hands tied behind his back. And people too if he had to."  
"You know, I'm getting closer and closer to that point where I change my mind, so-"

"Bye, mom," Mackenzie said as she gave Dena a final squeeze and a peck to the cheek before grabbing Daquan by the hand and running as fast as her short little legs would take her in the direction of her car, parked a couple of blocks away near the supply shed where it was usually kept until needed to go out on a run.

"Scout, can you slow it down just a little bit," Daquan suggested as he struggled to keep up with the spry teenager.

"Tell Kevin we'll be ready to leave in ten minutes," was the only sort of reply he received as she unapologetically kept the pace until they arrived at their destination. Her mania didn't cease even then, as she continued to race around inside the building that was a revised mechanic's garage, grabbing all the supplies that would be needed for their trip.

In less than fifteen minutes since hugging Dena goodbye, the trio was out on the road with Daquan driving, Kevin in the back, and Scout playing co-pilot as usual in the front passenger seat.

"OK, we're gonna keep on this road for a little bit, then jump on 81 south."

Unbeknownst to her at the time, a fellow traveler also in desperate search of some piece of mind made a similar decision, this one based on a hunch, when the road signs announcing the upcoming alternate routes suddenly appeared before him. Relying heavily on a combination of a few sparsely-spaced clues left behind and his own natural instinct, he declined the southern route and veered onto to I-81 North.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Two hours Later Following Previous Chapter

 **Alexandria**

"You're sure this is the place," Daquan asked Scout as she stood before the gates surrounding the supposed destination, shielding her eyes from the sun as she gazed upwards toward the deserted guard posts looking crestfallen.

"There's no one here," she informed him of the fact that he and their other sidekick Kevin had already been well aware of since the trio of them had spent the last fifteen minutes or so calling for someone, anyone's attention. "Oh, this is not good," she said, turning to Daquan with eyes that were brimming with tears. "What are we gonna tell Carol?"

"That we got here and there was no one here. You know, the truth?"

"We've come too far to just turn around and go back home with some lame ass, half-hearted attempt at finding an answer. Those other communities she mentioned, they've gotta be fairly close-"

"Scout, no way in hell am I gonna explain to your mama that I let you talk me into-"

"There's fresh tire tracks here, and a lot of them. Somebody's been here recently. I bet if we follow them-"

"The deal was, we come here and check out the situation right here in Alexandria, and Alexandria alone, then head back home."

"If we follow them, we should at least get some answers," Mackenzie finished, deliberately ignoring Daquan's entire protest in the process.

"Did Carol not say that these people they were at war with only wanted to take all their shit? If you ask me, that's all these tire tracks are: a fleet of U-hauls that just came and took whatever was left after they got their asses beat."

"Then why bother to lock the gates when they left? It doesn't all add up and we owe it to Carol to find out exactly what happened!"

"I'm sorry, Scout, but here's where I gotta put my foot down." A nod to his other male counterpart was all the communication needed to prompt Kevin to scoop up the unsuspecting Mackenzie and corral her into the back seat of the car before she could find the opportunity to make her own move and seize the upper hand as she'd been known to do. Despite her screaming and protesting and promises to make their lives a living hell upon returning to Riverview, Daquan didn't dare stray from the return-trip route. At least not until the moment he spotted another traveler on the road ahead of them, far off in the distance.

He didn't dare say anything at first, just gradually increased his speed in hopes to make up some ground between the two vehicles so that he could get a better look. Scout and Kevin had been too preoccupied bickering at each other for the majority of the trip to take notice for themselves, and there was no point in alerting them until he was certain he was actually seeing what he thought to be a person driving a motorcycle.

"What the fuck, Daquan? Why are you flying all of a...OH MY GOD!"

Mackenzie had finally seen it too, and he had managed to close the gap just enough to confirm that it was indeed a dude on a bike just seconds before she realized the cause for his increase in speed for herself.

"That's gotta be him," she cheered excitedly as climbed into the front seat beside him and tugged on his shirt sleeve due to the current lack of a better outlet for expressing her elation. "IT'S DARYL, I KNOW IT IS! SPEED UP! We GOTTA CATCH UP TO HIM!"

"What, you think he's just gonna pull over thinkin' we want some Grey Poupon? I don't care how cool he is with Carol, dude is liable to blow our heads off thinking we're trying to mess with him or something. Not a good idea, Scout."

"No he won't, not if he's like Carol, now put the pedal to the medal and catch him before he gets too far away! Dude, Carol is gonna be having her baby soon. Do you want to be the one to tell her that her baby daddy ain't gonna be there cuz YOU let him get away?"

When he found himself unable to argue with her reasoning, Daquan floored the pedal, causing the engine to rev loudly-and for Daryl to realize that he was being pursued for the first time.

At first he just sped up, recreating a brief, increased distance between them, but with a shift of the car's gears, the gap was shortened once more to a distance that had apparently grown too close for comfort for Daryl. Next thing the Riverview crew knew, their car was veering off into a ditch on the side of the road when Daryl withdrew his gun and blew out it's two passenger-side tires.

Before the car even came to a full stop, Mackenzie had hopped out and started running toward Daryl who was still speeding away on his bike, making her best attempt to flag him down before he managed to drive out of sight indefinitely. She was about to give up hope when suddenly it appeared that the bike was slowing. She was still running toward him when it did in fact come to a complete stop, and the man dismounted, armed himself with something that had been slung over his shoulder, and began walking back in her direction.

He was still far away enough where any attempt at verbal communication would be pointless, so Mackenzie simply threw up her arms in surrender so he could easily identify she was not armed as they both continued to put in equal effort in narrowing the gap between them. When they got close enough that she was able to identify his weapon as a crossbow, Mackenzie was so excited that she was half tempted to just run up and hug him.

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU," he was the first to bark out once they were in shouting distance of one another.

"MY NAME IS MACKENZIE," she belted in response in the friendliest, most non-threatening voice she could muster, which really wasn't an easy thing to do when you had no choice but to shout it out. She had thought about asking the typical return response to that question, but considered that it might help to speed things up by revealing to him what she was ninety-nine percent sure that she already knew. "You're Daryl, aren't you? Daryl Dixon, from Alexandria?"

Her unexpected response had caused Daryl to freeze in his tracks, but one thing he didn't do was lower the crossbow. Instead, he took advantage of his new immobile state to sharpen his aim.

"How do you know who I am," he had growled at the girl, half-expecting to hear Negan's trademark whistling approaching him from behind, for the simple fact that when it came to having any luck in fulfilling his quest, he had just about given up hope. Also why when the girl responded, 'Carol,' he had to ask again for confirmation.

"Did you say Carol?"

"YES, YES, CAROL! She's been looking for you! She told us all about you! We were out here looking for you, so we could bring you to her! Daryl, you have to come home with us! Carol is going to to be so happy to see you!"

Why it all sounded too good to be true, he wasn't sure. After all, he had been convinced for so long that she was out there somewhere with a valid explanation for her latest disappearing act, but now, when it seemed that a reunion may very well be upon them, he was inexplicably nervous to the point that he actually entertained the idea of hopping back onto his bike and driving away like none of this ever happened. It was like one of those circumstances where you get yourself all psyched up for something so long, only to to be hugely disappointed in the end, like the time he and Merle finally went to see Guns n Roses after months of counting down the days after they'd purchased the tickets, then the whole show went to shit when the entire band was too drunk to play a decent tune.

It's not that he thought he would be disappointed in Carol for whatever the reason was that she left. He simply loved her too much to ever find fault with any of her decisions, and for the rest of his life he would never understand how Rick had ever taken the difficult task that she performed out of sheer loyalty to the family and used it against her. Never in his life had he known anyone with a kinder heart than hers, and to ever accuse Carol of being dangerous to the people she loved, or of being cold-hearted and inconsiderate of others would be an unfair judgment that couldn't be any further from the truth. She would do anything to protect them, or to ease their pain, and he was pretty sure that was exactly what she was hoping to accomplish by leaving.

He couldn't stop thinking about her visit to Maura. He'd been obsessing over his failure to interrogate the doc over what she knew about Carol's disappearance before it was too late for months now. He had pretty much come to the conclusion that she had left because she found out she was sick...sick sick, like cancer or some other illness that was practically incurable even before the world had gone to shit. It was the only explanation that made any sense. She would have to know that if he knew she was sick...dying...it would change everything. He couldn't be strong, and pretend like she was nothin' but a nuisance to him like he'd been doing for the past two months before she disappeared. She knew how deeply he cared for her, and that he would never be able to live with himself if things between them had ended on a sour note. Knowing she was sick would change the dynamic between them, and therefore potentially put him at risk. Put HIM at risk. That was exactly the way she thought; something that he knew for a fact because it was exactly the same way he would reason things if the tables were turned.

Of course there was always that one tiny sliver of hope that he'd clung to...the one that had been keeping his sanity intact for the last few months. The unknown had allowed that hope to thrive, but now, knowing that there were definitive answers awaiting him, he found himself doing more than just clinging to it. Now, he was holding onto it for dear life, and praying- yes, praying- that the power of belief alone could somehow alter whatever fate might have originally been intended for her. It was either that or he was about to receive some news that would utterly destroy him-there simply was no in between.

As much as he wanted to believe that somehow everything was going to turn out alright, there were already several things about the whole scenario which disturbed him deeply. If Carol was looking for him, then why wasn't she there herself? Why wasn't SHE out looking for him instead of a bunch of kids? _Because she's not able to, dummy. She's sick. She's dying._

To his horror, he found himself asking those questions that he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers to aloud. "Where is she? If she's lookin' for me then why didn't she come with you?"

"She would have wanted to, but she's not able to, for health reasons" Mackenzie found herself answering carefully, making a conscious effort to both not give away or withhold too much information that simply wasn't her place to share. However, when she saw the look of panic in Daryl's eyes, she was compelled to offer an explanation that would put him at ease. "But don't get me wrong, she's fine. She's-"

"Uh, Scout, Mr. Dixon, Sir," Kevin began carefully as the neglected duo consisting of Kevin and Daquan approached the two who had been oblivious to their arrival as a result of the intense, Carol-centric conversation they had been wrapped up in. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but if you want to get back to Carol, you're going to need to go now. I radioed in to tell Dena what had happened, and Monique told me that Carol has taken a turn for the worse."

"What? What does that mean," Mackenzie asked, shooting her own suddenly alarmed glance at an even more petrified-looking Daryl.

"I don't know. All she said was get home now."

"You gonna show me how to get to this place or what," Daryl asked in a voice that was just barely held together by a thread as he brushed past Mackenzie and began running back toward his bike without waiting for an answer. Thankfully he didn't have to waste any time going back to collect the girl who was going to lead him to Carol, for she jumped on his bike behind him soon after he had hopped on himself, but he had been fully prepared to turn around and pluck her up for the journey if such measures were going to be necessary. There was nothing left standing between him and Carol now except distance and time, and from the way it was beginning to sound, time was of the essence and without a moment to be spared. He'd always wondered just how fast Merle's old bike could go when really put to the test, but it was an unfair time to evaluate it's performance when even the fastest speed couldn't be deemed nearly quick enough when it was the only thing separating you and the woman that you loved.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Continued From Previous Chapter

Dena nervously paced back and forth before the large window in Carol's hospital room as she waited for Mackenzie to arrive with this guy who was apparently Daryl. The Daryl. The one and only, whom might have arrived a heckuva lot earlier if she hadn't been so obstinate about sending Mackenzie, or someone at least, out to look for him.

She never thought that it would be such a simple task. If she'd had any idea that Mackenzie would make it to Alexandria and back unharmed and in less than seven hours total, with Daryl in tow, she would have sent her months ago, and Daryl could have been here already and quite possibly have helped prevent the disaster which began shortly after Mackenzie and the others had left.

She had been sitting at the nurses station with Emmy, Gayle, Norman, and Patrice, giving them strict instruction that Carol was forbidden from doing basically just about everything from then on until the baby was born. At the very moment she had begun to explain she was afraid too much combined physical and emotional stress could trigger an early labor, they had all heard the screams that caused every hair on her body to stand on end, coming from Carol's room.

She was only a few short steps away, but by the time they had reached her, Carol was already lying on the floor unconscious, presumably from the massive amount of blood lost. She had only been there to rest after getting upset during her exam, but evidently sometime in the midst of her nap she had gone into premature labor and begun to bleed, and quite heavily, made apparent by the huge concentration of blood left behind on the bed. At that point she must have woken up, likely from feeling a contraction, realized she was bleeding, then crawled out of bed to seek help. Thank goodness she'd had enough strength left to scream just before passing out. If another minute or so had passed it might have very well been too late.

The hour following the horrific discovery had been completely chaotic, and never in her entire professional life had she been faced with a more difficult decision until that moment. She had made a promise to Carol, at her own insistence, that in the event of an emergency, she must do whatever was necessary to save the baby first, which was pretty much the antithesis of the standard practice where saving the mother was priority. If Carol had been merely a couple more weeks into her pregnancy, it would have been an easy decision to just do a C-section right then and there, and mother and baby both would have at least a decent chance of surviving. But right now the baby wasn't ready. His lungs were not fully developed yet and even though they were fairly well-equipped enough to handle most emergencies there, they simply didn't have all the necessary resources to provide life-support for babies who were that premature. Not ones that were reliable enough to suit her anyway.

It mostly boiled down to having proper medications. They had respirators galore for all ages, but in order for them to work properly, the patient needed to be properly sedated so that the machines could work their magic. It was only within the last couple of years that finding medications suitable for use had become a challenge. Sure, she still had a dispensary full of them, only now most of them had an expired shelf life and therefore could no longer be relied upon to perform the job properly. But she still tried, at least with some of them, depending on the individual situation.

In Carol's case, with saving the baby being her main focus, again at the insistence of her patient, there were a number of medications she could try. For the moment at least, saving Carol first had to be priority because the longer the baby could remain in the womb, the better his chance of survival would be. It was a tricky situation though and she only had a very small window of time to work with before she would be left with no other choice but to take the baby if Carol didn't respond, and then she would probably end up losing them both. She knew deep down though that if she took the baby now, which would certainly greatly increase Carol's survival rate, and Carol recovered but the baby didn't make it, Carol would be tormented by that for the rest of her life.

The first step was getting some blood back in her which was one thing they had thankfully been well-prepared for. Since the day she'd learned of Carol's condition she'd started having a handful of willing donors drop by monthly to give a pint or two and as a result, they were stocked up well enough that she didn't even have to worry about running out. Next came a couple of different medications that could help slow, and hopefully stop altogether, her contractions. Then, another medication, this one for the baby, a steroid which would help speed up the development of his lungs, provided it was still effective. It wasn't one that she would have chosen to rely on, but at this point if it came down to taking the baby as a last-ditch effort, it was a shot that had to at least be taken. With these measures taken, the last thing left to do was just a whole lotta praying that the bleeding would stop.

Thankfully, it did, and for the moment, Carol and baby were holding on. She regained consciousness shortly after her blood level returned closer to where it belonged, and Dena was then able to determine directly from the source that the contractions were subsiding as well. She was understandably in a complete state of panic, but when Dena reminded her exactly what effects getting herself all worked-up was capable of having on her, she had begun to at least focus on trying to calm down.

That was when Monique had sent over Jordan to let her know that Mackenzie and the others had found Daryl. The worst part was, she couldn't even share the good news with Carol, at least not until he was actually there in the flesh. If she had any idea he was on his way, her excitement would likely set labor in motion once again and she wasn't so sure she would be able to stop it the next time. It was something of a miracle already that it worked just this once.

She decided to administer a mild sedative to help her get some rest. It felt like a cruel thing to do considering she would probably be sleeping for a while immediately following Daryl's arrival, but for the sake of this baby which was exactly the way she would want it, it was absolutely necessary that she get as much rest as possible during these critical next few hours. She may hate her for it later, but seeing the three together as a family a little later down the road will have made the sacrifice well worth it.

This also created a new dilemma: should she or she should she not tell Daryl what was going on? It would be a damn tragedy if he had to hear everything from her and not Carol herself. For all she knew, maybe Mackenzie had already spilled the beans, but if she knew her daughter as well as she thought she did, then she didn't tell Daryl squat unless he'd demanded answers. From what little information she was able to gather, it at least seemed that any conversation between Mackenzie and Daryl would be minimal considering the two were heading back on his bike. She would just have to play it by ear when he got there to determine exactly how much he already knew and what she was going to do with the information that he didn't.

In the event that she could get away with not telling him anything, the ideal scenario, she had to do a little prep work on Carol. With a bit of clever pillow and blanket placement, she was able to make an arrangement that successfully concealed her baby bump. It just had to be Carol to be the one telling Daryl that he was about to become a dad.

And speak of the devil, she received a five second warning that he was near when she heard the motorcycle. She gave a quick glance at Carol to make sure that the sound of her beau's bike didn't awake her from her drug-induced slumber. Her eyes didn't flutter, but a smile spread across her face which made Dena instantly tear up and go for the Kleenex in her coat pocket. It was one of the cutest damn things she had ever seen in her life.

And if unconscious, smiling Carol hadn't been bad enough, there came Daryl striding through the main entrance with an expression all full of desperation and worry that reminded her of one of her favorite movie moments in Titanic, when Rose jumped back on the ship and Jack was all freaked the fuck out cuz the woman that he loved was putting herself in danger to be with him. Different scenario, but same swoon-worthy, gut-wrenched look.

"Where is she," he demanded, approaching her like a madman on a mission. Ordinarily she would have found this behavior off-putting, but because of getting to know Daryl so well vicariously through Carol, she didn't feel the least bit intimidated by him.

"She's resting, and she needs to remain that way," she said gently but firmly as she boldly stepped directly into his path.

"WHAT'S WRONG? WHAT THE HELL DID YOU PEOPLE DO TO HER?"

"Daryl, it's OK. Carol's fine, isn't she mom?"

"Right now she is stable," Dena somewhat confirmed, shooting Mackenzie a 'way to put me on the spot' glare. "But like I said, right now she needs to rest. I can assure you that Carol is here by her own will, ok, and we all adore her and would certainly not do anything to harm her. She came to us needing help, and we were more than happy to take her in and help in and provide for her in any way that we could."

She watched him agonizingly swallow back what must have been a massive lump in the throat she imagined had been with him for quite some time now.

"She's sick, isn't she? What is it, cancer or somethin'?"

"I will tell you that it's not cancer, but I'm afraid I can't say anything more for the moment. I know you have lots of questions, but really there is no better person to answer them than Carol herself, so I'm leaving that all up to her, ok?"

"Fine, take me to her then," he said as he anxiously stepped around her , determined to find his own way despite his former request for guidance. A gentle grab of his arm temporarily halted him however.

"I will, Daryl, and I'll take you to her right now, but you need to promise me something first, ok? Look, I know when you see her you're going to want to hug her and hold her and kiss her and love her, but please...don't. I can't stress enough how important rest is for her right now. Right before we knew you were coming, she had an 'episode,' for lack of a better term. She really, really needs this time to recover from it, so please, I beg you, do not disturb her in any way until she wakes up on her own. Can you do that for me?"

When she received the agreeable nod she was waiting for, she turned and began to lead him down the short path to Carol's room.

Daryl felt like the air was about as thick as a bowl of some kind of creamed soup, and his knees were wobbling so severely that he felt the need to hold onto the railing for support for the duration of the walk there. When he got his first peek at Carol lying there in the bed looking so pale and clammy, and almost lifeless, his knees actually did buckle and give way resulting in Dena having to catch his fall before he hit the ground, and ease him into the chair at Carol's bedside.

"It's going to be OK," Dena whispered as she gave a comforting squeeze to his shoulder, then stepped to the window to draw the shades in effort to create a more soothing atmosphere. "I'm gonna leave you alone with her now," she continued in an ultra-hushed voice as she moved toward the doorway. "I'll be popping in and out to keep an eye on things. Let us know if you need anything, or if she wakes up, ok?"

For a moment, all he could do was stare. For so long he had been left with nothing but the memory of her sweet face, and to be able to behold her with his own two eyes once more was a moment he didn't intend to take for granted, not now, not ever again, especially if he was indeed treading on borrowed time. So she didn't have cancer, great, but there were still dozens other god-awful terminal illnesses out there she could be suffering from, and minutes could very well be all he had left to try and desperately remember every beautiful feature in vivid detail before she was taken from him forever.

He started to cry. He couldn't help it, but he did at least manage to reduce his sniveling to a minimum so that she wouldn't be disturbed by it. He'd do just about anything for one of her hugs right now, or to simply just reach out and grab a hold of her hand, but as per usual her needs always superceded his own so all he could do for now was keep his hands corralled between his knees so they couldn't involuntarily violate the strict rules set forth for him. He did however still find himself reaching out to touch her on several occasions, but was able to catch himself in the act each time, and in time enough to stop it.

Even though talking was out of the question, he did allow a few carefully chosen words to escape via whisper from time to time, since Dena herself had done as much while in her presence. He figured that was his green light to do the same, so long as what he had to say was important, and in his opinion, the words that he had chosen were the single most important words he'd ever uttered in his entire life.

"I love you, Carol. Please, please, don't leave me."

He had probably repeated the phrase a few dozen times in the six hours that he sat at her bedside without budging for a single reason until finally, the one time he received a response to his desperate plea.

"I won't," he heard the faint voice of his beloved whisper, as her hand reached out and squeezed ahold of his.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Continued From Previous Chapter

Carol smiled dreamily at the image of concerned Daryl sitting at her bedside. For the last several months beginning the day that she'd left home, he'd appeared to her daily in some form or another whether it be in a dream or as some version of a ghost who would pop in on occasion and offer her words of guidance or comfort in those times when she was missing him the most. Most of these dreams and encounters had been of a pleasant variety, but there were a few times she had been quite relieved to determine that a particular episode was nothing but a nightmare conjured up from her own worst fears.

It wasn't the occurrences where he was upset with her that bothered her. She knew him well enough to know that when he learned the truth she should expect for him to go through an entire range of emotions backwards and forwards, and maybe back again, before he would be able to make peace with what she did, but really, that was all perfectly normal. After all, she herself acted like a complete kook for months as she struggled to come to terms with what had happened, and if he chose to label her as such and let her be the villain in this paticular storyline, then she was more than ok with that. It was better than him believing that she simply didn't think he was man enough to step up to the plate which, knowing Daryl the way she did, was more likely to be the case and that was something that completely broke her heart for the simple fact that it couldn't be any further from the truth. It might take some time, but she was confident that she would be able to break through once again and assure him that not only was he more than adequate for the job, if she were given daily opportunity to hand-pick one out of a distinct million to be her lifelong companion and father to her child, she'd choose him every time.

As unpleasant as this particular reaction was, it was far from being worst-case scenario. She absolutely hated the fact that her actions in all likelihood was going to cause him a good amount of grief for some time, but it was still better than the alternatives for the simple fact that at least in this case, he was still alive. She'd much rather deal with upset, belligerent Daryl any day than the Daryl that came to her completely at peace and full of acceptance and understanding because he had been killed in the war, crossed over to the other side, and was now a bonafide ghost/angel/heavenly dweller. Yup, those scenarios were definitely the worst, and it was those that unlike other episodes, she was always eager to wake up from/snap out of ASAP.

The trick to putting an end to any form of these visits was to reach out and try to touch him. It was this simple gesture which never failed to work every time so when dearly-departed Daryl came to visit, needless to say it was enacted immediately upon determining it was this version who had come to pay her a visit on that particular occasion. It was safe to say however that she never voluntarily banished any of the other versions away prematurely, and then Daryl would always end up vanishing in the same manner when she would reach out to grab his hand or hug him, or kiss him on the forehead in attempt to offer some ease to his pain when she couldn't bear to just sit back and watch any longer, even though she knew she was only imagining it and that very action would only make him go away.

But on this particular occasion, when she grabbed his hand and squeezed it for comfort, his hand squeezed back. And rather than disappearing into thin air, he had moved closer to her, and was now sitting immediately at her side on the edge of the bed, and she could actually feel his hand cupping her face in such detail that the roughness of his fingers were actually detectable. Her heart immediately began to race from the excitement that perhaps this time he was not a dream, and as a result, the alarm on the heartrate monitor began to sound sending Dena flying into the room.

She was sure that if the touch-trick had simply lost it's effectiveness that surely Dena making an appearance in the dream would drive Daryl away, but nope...he was still there, and now putting up a fight with the doc as she struggled to dispell him from the room. She could actually hear the shouts ringing in her ears as if they were actually...real.

"Daryl? Is that really you," she managed to squeak out, just as Dena corraled him out the door and shut it behind him.

"Dena? What are you doing," Carol demanded as the fog continued to clear and it became more and more apparent that it was actually a very real Daryl that had just been chased out of her room. "That was really him, wasn't it? That was my Daryl? Why would you-"

"I'm sorry, I'll let him back in A-SAP, I promise, just please, cooperate with me for a few minutes, and try to calm down. You do remember why you're lying here in the hospital, getting blood transfusions now, don't you?"

One glance upward at the bag of blood dangling above her head and Carol nodded understandingly. She had just come this close to losing the baby and even though she could tell by the change of the light in the room that quite a few hours had passed since the incident, it didn't necessarily mean that all was well. She could read Dena like a book and guessed correctly that her friend wanted nothing more than to assess her current condition before she proceeded to tell Daryl anything.

"I haven't told him a thing, just so you know, and I covered you up so that he wouldn't figure it out on his own. That's why I really just wanted to get in here and check on you and the baby so you can tell him yourself exactly where we stand right now."

"I can't believe he's really here," she mumbled wistfully as her hand found the spot on her chin where his had just been. "How did it happen? "

"I let Scout and her crew go to Alexandria to check things out. As it turned out, they crossed paths with him on their way there and were able to flag him down and bring him back." It was partly the truth she was telling her at least as she began preparing her patients for an ultrasound. She didn't need to know about the part where they had made it all the way to Alexandria only to find no one was there, at least not until patient number one was given a clean bill of health and number two the same, and completely independently of his host.

Carol heaved a deep sigh of relief when she was able to see with her own two eyes that her very own Little Ass-Kicker appeared to be doing well. She had worked beside Dena closely enough during the last few months to be able to decipher the statistics displayed on the monitor herself, sparing her from any uncertainty that Dena might not be telling her the whole truth for the sole purpose of keeping her calm.

"OK, so everything here looks good. How do you feel? Any cramping at all, even if it seems negligible?"

"No, none."

"You'd tell me if you did have any, right?"

"Do you really have to ask me that," Carol replied with marked annoyance in response to the question that she found to be downright insulting, considering everything she had done since finding out she was pregnant was for the sake of the baby's well-being.

"Just covering all my bases," Dena responded without even a hint of apology embedded.

"So are we done here, cuz I think if you make me wait a minute longer I'm gonna knock you down if I have to, if that's what it's gonna take to see him" Carol stammered impatiently.

"I'm going," Dena replied, throwing her hands up in surrender. "But two things before I go. Number one: I think he thinks you're dying, so you might want to consider clearing that up sooner rather than later. I did at least tell him that you don't have cancer, which was what he was guessing. And number two: if I hear any of these monitors going off, then I am cutting this visit short. Consider this your fair warning."

"Fine. If it comes to it I'll respect that, but I have a few conditions of my own, doc."

"Oh you do, do you," Dena replied with the same hands-on-hips sass she was currently receiving from her patient, but one look into Carol's steely gaze warned her that this was more than just some battle of wits.

"Promise me that as long as none of these precious little alarms of yours are going off that you, or anybody else, won't interfere, no matter what you hear coming from this room."

"Oh, I really don't like the sound of this, but fine...I'll agree to that."

"Wonderful, now will you please-"

"I'm gone," Dena informed her with a smile as she backed herself out the door which she held open just long enough for Daryl to slip back inside. Carol deduced he must have been standing right outside the entire time, and began to wonder how much, if any, of their conversation he had heard. This concern was immediately shattered upon seeing his face, which was still ripe with absolutely nothing but pure worry.

"Hi," she said with a grin she imagined looked goofier than that of a whole a bunch of teenage girls at their favorite boy band concert put together. It may not have been the most flattering look for her, but her smile appeared to at least put him at ease somewhat, and he even attempted to smile back although words were still non-existent for the moment, as was his ability to advance any further than just beyond the door frame.

"Come here, you," she said sweetly as she patted a vacant area of her bed suitable enough for a seat, and as he began his cautious approach, she extended her arms to send the signal that one helluva hug awaited him.

She found herself gasping for air in that one glorious moment when his arms embraced her again for the first time in what seemed like forever ago, and she feared that her ever-increasing, pounding heart, combined with the downpour of tears that she had absolutely zero control over at this point, even though they were happy ones, would set off some alarm and send Dena flying into the room intent on shooing Daryl out for god only knows how long. And if it wasn't her to tip Dena off it was going to be the baby who started kicking like, well...a little ass-kicker, the very moment that Daryl made first contact. She found herself silently pleaing with her various body parts under observation to keep their excitement in check, and even though she knew it to be silly, apparently the little talk was working.

As was quite typical for them in moments like this, neither one of them spoke for a couple of minutes. They had often shared these amazing, long embraces which were so much more meaningful than just about anything words could say on most occasions, however this time in particular, the need for conversation was paramount, and the sooner they got to it the better. She didn't need to see his face to know that he was crying, and that his tears unlike hers, were not of that same euphoric variety. He was scared, she could feel his every nerve-ending on edge as well as if it were her own body, and she had the power to put him at ease in the form of some long overdue information.

"I know you're worried, but I want you to know that I'm ok," she mumbled next to his ear with her chin remaining on his shoulder and arms still holding onto him for dear life. "I realize I might not look so hot right now, but I'm going to be ok because I have an excellent doctor who knows exactly what to do for me."

It was him who broke free of the embrace at this point, apparently in attempt to guage the validity of her claim by means of his own visual inspection which required little more than a quick peer into her eyes to determine whether or not she was telling him the truth. He was just as damn good at reading her as she was with him, just like the time he knew she wasn't ready to hear about what had happened to Glenn and Abraham, from her own standpoint, even though she had asked for that information.

"I knew something was goin' on when you went to see Maura but when you just took off like that, I didn't know what to think. Or I did and I just didn't want to."

"I'm so sorry I put you through that," she said as she grabbed a hold of one of his hands, intent on keeping it prisoner to both of hers as she began to slowly unveil the truth. "You have to know that when I left, I wasn't thinking clearly at all."

"Cuz of what you found out from Maura, or something else?"

"Oh, I'd say it was ninety-nine percent because of what Maura told me, and one percent individual right to just act like a complete nutjob when you hear something that completely blows your mind."

She could see the look of alarm flooding his expression once more and knew she was going to have to speed things up a bit for the sake of his sanity.

"Again, I'm not sick, per se, but I do have a medical condition that just couldn't afford to go untreated, and I knew if I didn't get the help I needed, let's just say, things were not going to end well for me."

"Why didn't ya tell me? You wouldn't have had to go through this alone, you know."

"I know," she said, squeezing his hand tightly as fresh tears began to stream down her cheeks. This was the part she dreaded, trying to get through to him that her reason for leaving him in the dark had more to do with the fact that sheknew he would do everything in his power to protect her as opposed to some non-existent belief of hers that he was just completely incapable of living upto the task. "Honey, I know that if I told you what was going on, you'd have been with me every step of the way, and that's exactly why I didn't tell you."

"What kinda fucked-up reasoning is that," he retorted half-jokingly. She imagined the other half was probably gearing up to tear her a new one depending on what intel was left to come.

"You remember what else happened the day I left? Somebody blew up our headquarters, and you went rushing in there to save everyone who didn't make it out right away, then I got there and found out you and some of the others were inside, and then what do I do? I do exactly the same, without even thinking about what I was putting at risk."

"You always do when it comes to one of us," he interjected argumentatively, however in her defense.

"Yeah, I know, but I do consider how much I risk and for whom, and there are people who rank higher on the list than others. You can't tell me you don't feel the same way."

"I get it. So what you're saying is that I'm like at the bottom of that list."

He was grinning at her playfully like the true smart-ass that he was, but there was just a hint of self-doubt that resonated there which pained her so much that she instantly felt just as severely nauseated as she'd felt when the morning sickness had been at it's height.

"Darling," she began in a tone that was one hundred percent no-nonsense for a subject that deserved just that kind of integrity. "When it comes to the people who are most important to me, you are right here." With that statement, she reached just as high as she could possibly lift her arm, using a level hand as her marker, then made visible effort to extend it even further than it could reach to drive her point home. "Now I know that's way up there, and there is only one thing that is right up there above you, and it's not even a single person, it's more of a three-way tie."

"I get it, it's Rick-"

"No. It's not," she said as she shook her head adamantly. "It's my family, and by family I mean, you, and me, and our child."

Her heart was beating a mile a minute as she nervously watched him struggling to process what he'd just heard. It was a reaction she could absolutely identify with one hundred percent, after all it had taken her months to come to terms with it herself. She'd actually needed to have visual proof before she she allowed herself to fully accept it, and perhaps that was all that Daryl needed too. She freed one of her hands to draw the covers away from her, and with the hand that was still entwined with Daryl's, she carefully steered his hand to come to a rest palm-down on her now fully-exposed, and very prominent baby bump.

His chest was heaving so hard it was like he was having convulsions, and he almost appeared as if he was about to cry although no tears came as he kept shifting his gaze between her eyes and her stomach. She couldn't even read him at the moment which she found to be absolutely disturbing beyond any behavior she'd witnessed from him yet, and that could mean only one thing: he was so mentally fucked right now that he didn't know if he should start celebrating or read her the riot act. She decided to continue to plea her case while his thoughts were still caught up in this purgatory.

"I knew I was pregnant when I rushed into that fire, and I still did it because my brain couldn't even process how to decide between him and you. I know that's a decision I never want to have to make, and I sure as hell don't want you to ever have to make it either."

"It's a boy," he asked quietly as he allowed his hand to just slightly increase it's pressure on her stomach as he searched for some sign of movement, and she was so grateful for the momentary glimpse of pure joy visible on Daryl's face when Little Ass Kicker the Second responded by giving a nice, healthy kick.

"Well, actually, I don't know for sure. It's just a hunch I had from the very beginning, like I had with Sophia. If you really want to know, I can call Dena in here and she'll tell us right now. The two of us, together."

"Nah," he said, shaking his head like he was still caught up in a daze. "I don't wanna know."

"He...or she...is doing really well. Dena wanted to make sure of it before I told you anything. As long as he or she can hang in there a couple more weeks, we'll be in the clear for her to just do a C-section , and all should be fine."

He stopped making attempts to look her in the eyes now with his gaze becoming fixated solely on her stomach, but his expression in general remained eerily emotionless.

"I hope you know I only left because of the war. If circumstances had been any different I would have told you so we could figure this out together, and I would have never left you. I was just afraid that with everything going on...with Negan-"

"THAT I COULDN'T PROTECT YOU? THAT I COULDN'T PROTECT MY OWN CHILD? THAT I WOULD JUST SIT THERE AND ALLOW SOME MANIAC TO BASH YOUR HEAD IN WITH A BASEBALL BAT LIKE I DID WITH GLENN AND ABRAHAM?"

"No, honey," she said as she violently shook her head with a fervent desperation to make him understand that he couldn't be more wrong, and before he could disappear on her at a time when she would be unable to go running after him.

"YOU'D GIVE YOUR OWN LIFE TO PROTECT US, I KNOW THAT. I JUST COULDN'T LET YOU DO THAT!"

She hoped that maybe there was a chance that he'd heard her last words before he got too far down the hall, but all in all, she wasn't too worried now that he would stray too far. Sure, he might stay mad at her for a while, and yes he would continue to question his own self-worth until she was able to break through once more, but there was no way in hell he would let those doubts stop him from protecting the ones he loved. They never did, and that is exactly how Daryl Dixon had made it this far.

Despite spending the rest of the night heartbroken, Carol and the baby's vitals had managed to remain completely stable, even as she cried her eyes out until she fell asleep, worrying about how Daryl was likely off somewhere beating himself up, and burning his own flesh with lit cigarettes if he happened to have them at the time. It was a stretch therefore to blame what happened next on the fact that they'd argued, but as Carol found herself being rushed into the delivery room after being jolted from her slumber by the same sharp pains accompanied by severe blood loss once again, she knew that if Daryl had been there that he would blame himself for everything, and a part of her was glad that he wasn't there to see it. She was also glad that she had given clear directive to Dena about what to do in this situation because the way things were looking right now, it was entirely possible that neither one of them, her or the baby, would make it through the night. If their fate had somehow been cruelly left up to Daryl, he would have found himself in the exact predicament she'd been trying to protect him from all along for the simple fact that she feared that, unlike what happened with Glenn and Abraham, there would be no comeback from their loss. Not this time.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Continued From Previous Chapter

From underneath a tree overlooking the body of water which earned this community it's name, something suddenly jolted Daryl awake. Startled for the moment, he instinctively grabbed his trusty crossbow which he had placed across his lap for convenience earlier, even though he was pretty sure at the time that it's use wouldn't be necessary as long as he was here.

He had probably encountered at least a dozen people on the way to his little private retreat, and every single one of them wanted to do the stop-and-chat because they all somehow knew exactly who he was and why he was there and they all wanted to know the answer to the very same first question: What was it like seeing Carol again?

He found himself doing what Carol would do in the situation: just tell them what they want to hear. It was the best he could do considering he wasn't even sure which way was up at the moment, let alone the fact that he just found out he was going to be a father, and rather than celebrate like any decent dad-to-be would, he went storming out of Carol's room like some damn drama queen.

He had to get away from her. Seeing him like this would only upset her more, and he knew himself well enough to know he just needed a few hours to blow off some steam. He wasn't even mad at her, that was the fucked up part. Yeah, he was pissed that she didn't tell him anything, but he also completely understood her reasoning. Mostly, he was just mad at the world in general, and that was a feeling that plagued him even long before it became overrun with walkers.

Carol was the one, single person in this entire world, past or present, that he would completely entrust his life to, and to even consider for a moment that she would do anything to hurt him was an insult to her character. She was protecting him, he knew that, from every possible scenario that could potentially arise and cause him any level of dispair. You can't even label it being over-protective...it's just what you do when you love somebody with all your heart and soul. He'd certainly done it before for her, when he lied right to her face that, yeah, everything is just peachy back in Alexandria, fresh off of Glenn and Abraham's brutal murders, because he knew she just couldn't handle the truth at the moment. Sure, there was always the risk that you would piss someone off when trying to protect them cuz on the receving end of things it did make you stop and think...whoa, do they really think that you're this immature little child who just can't handle adult shit? The answer is, no they don't. They just love you too much to allow you to be subjected to any unneccesary pain if they could do something to prevent it.

It was this thought that resonated with him and prompted him to get off his ass and head back. Even though he was confident enough that Carol would know he was just dealing with the usual backlog of a lifetime's worth of backward-ass thinking, he needed to put all that negative bs behind him and be there for her. For her and the baby. His baby.

"You fuckin' asshole," he grumbled to himself as he began his mad dash back to the hospital. His child wasn't even born yet and already he was screwing up this whole dad thing, something he promised himself he would never do if given the chance. But at least it wasn't too late, and there was still time for him to get his shit together before the baby arrived. Or did he?

It had been easy for him to figure out how far along she was considering he knew every bit as well as she exactly when it happened, but he had run out of the hospital in a huff without even knowing what in the hell was going on. Even though she had assured him everything was alright for the moment, something had happened, and he had no idea exactly what that something was. Of all the stupid, selfish, irresponsible-"

His thought process was interrupted right there as soon as he set foot on hospital grounds and was greeted by Mackenzie who came flying out the building's main entrance in a path straight for him, screaming his name.

"DARYL! Oh thank god you're here, I was just about to go looking for you! You've got to come with me now, hurry!"

He could literally feel the color draining from his face, and his finger and toes grow cold when his heart skipped a few beats just before kicking back in gear and shifting into hyper-drive. He was grateful that Mackenzie was offering up the info needed because right now speech was not cooperating with him.

"She started having contractions and bleeding again, and my mom tried the medicine to see if she could stall it, but it's not working this time. She can't get the bleeding under control either so she has no choice but to take the baby now. She's already in there operating. I'm sorry but she just couldn't wait."

Daryl felt as if his next steps had landed him right into a plot of cement as they arrived right outside the OR doors, and Mackenzie pushed her way through and was apparently expecting him to follow.

"You can come in if you want, or you can wait, it's up to you," she paused to inform him when she noticed his hesitation to join her. "My mom does kick ass at saving lives," she offered with her best attempt at a consoling smile, "but sometimes shit happens that you just don't have any control over. I feel like I know you so well already just from getting to know Carol, and I think you would want to be the one to do it if it comes to that."

What he really wanted to do was go find a corner, crawl into a ball, cover his ears and eyes, and rock himself to sleep while he pretended that none of this was really happening. The only thing preventing him from doing so was the fact that Carol and his child needed him now more than ever, and as difficult as it was to even think about walking, somewhere he found the strength to get himself exactly where he needed to be.

The scene that awaited him inside was by far the most horrific thing he'd seen in his life, and anyone living in this day and age knew the profoundness of such a statement. Carol was sprawled out on the operating table which was smack-dab in the middle of a four-foot radius of blood covering the floor, making it appear like she was resting atop a pool floatie in the middle of Satan's swimming pool. Additional blood kept pouring from her body, and oozing off the edge of the table at such a rate where he could actually see the size of the pool expand with the naked eye. Her skin was an eerie shade of walker-blue although he could rest assured that she was still alive for the moment at least. From the way things looked right now, he wasn't so sure that statement would remain valid for much longer.

"I'm gonna deliver the baby now, Daryl," Dena informed him, focusing solely on the task immediately presenting itself. "When I do it will stop the bleeding, hopefully before it's too late."

"You think she's gonna die," he amazingly found himself asking despite his self-presumed inability to speak.

"Not if I can help it, and I am trying to help it, despite a promise I made to her. Swear to me you'll never tell her I went against her wishes when this works, ok?"

"How are you going against her wishes?"

"She made me promise that no matter what, I'd focus on saving the baby first," she explained as she made the first incision into Carol's flesh. "For the most part, I didn't have to worry about what I'd really do when put in that situation until now. Even yesterday, when we had our first major complication, things were working in our favor and I was spared having to make that call. I was still able to do what was best for the both of them, and not have to focus on one over the other. "

Her eyes never left the work cut before her as she filled in all the missing blanks for Daryl, which was no bother to him since he was too busy exchanging glances between Carol's face, trying to decipher various monitor readings, and checking on the status of the delivery of his child, all while holding on tightly to Carol's hand. His current baby status-check showed Dena's hands now making a part in the incision she'd just made.

"This time at the rate she was losing blood, if I were focusing primarily on saving the baby, I'd take him first and worry about Carol later, but I'm sorry...I just couldn't do that. I knew if I operated first before worrying about getting her stabilized on a respirator that there was no way that she would make it. There is a bit of risk to the baby this way, but it's minimal compared to the certainty of Carol dying if I didn't do it. All she wanted was for the three of you to be together as a family, and as her friend, I couldn't standy by and not act on one of the risks that we take when it comes to protecting the people that we care about."

At this point he was squeezing her hand so tightly that he forced himself to actually ease up on the pressure for fear of actually causing injury to her hand. All she wanted was for the three of them to be a family. He could totally identify with that. There was nothing more in this world that he wanted too, and if Dena saw if it fit to make herself captain of Team Caryl and son for the time being, so be it. Let her lead them on for the win.

"Of course if this little one coulda waited just a few weeks more this woulda been a heck of a lot easier," Dena explained as she guided the baby free from Carol's womb into the open air with such ease that it made Daryl's head spin. "But if the medication didn't work then we are prepared care for him, just not as well-equipped as I'd like to be."

"What medication are we talkin' about," Daryl inquired as he grew more and more nervous by the second, waiting to see the baby move, or do something. That's when all of a sudden, baby Dixon's little face wrinkled up, and he let out a wail rivaling that of your average full-term baby any day.

"That one," Dena said, as tears of relief came spewing from her eyes instantly upon hearing that cranky little cry. "A steroid that speeds up the development of the baby's lungs. Of course it expired a couple of years ago, but I'd say it worked. Now, I don't mean to be rude, but would you please take your son so I can get his momma here closed up and get this bleeding stopped once and for all."

The minute that his son was placed in his arms, life in general took on a whole new meaning. The old, life's a bitch and then you die motto that he used to pretty much live by now seemed like nothing but an exaggeration concocted by some bitter old man, just like the one he probably would have become if Carol had never come into his life. Sure, life could be a bitch, had definitely been a raging bitch to him at times, but it also was capable of throwing a little bit of joy your way too, like the little bundle of it lying in his arms right now, and the woman lying by his side who made it all possible.

And the blessings just kept coming. After spending the next half an hour worrying about whether or not his son would ever get to officially meet his mother, Dena finally turned her attention away from her patient and gave him the thumbs-up he'd been waiting for. It was the most nerve-wracking half hour of his entire life and he was pretty sure that he would have probably pulled out every hair on his head if one of Dena's assistants hadn't given him the task of administering his son's very first feeding.

And to add another, the baby was doing just fine on his own and required absolutely zero life sustaining measures of any kind. He was every bit as healthy as a full term baby, just ever so slightly smaller, weighing in at a full pound under the average newborn baby weight. This did however make him a full pound heavier than the average thirty-one week fetus, which Daryl took some pride in discovering, and caused Mackenzie to remark that it was simply typical of a Li'l Ass Kicker.

With all the good shit happening right now he almost felt selfish asking for a bit more, but regardless he found himself asking life for just one more favor. Just let Carol wake up now so she too can hold their beautiful son.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Continued From Previous Chapter

Carol felt her face distort into a grimace as what was at first just a mild, nagging burning sensation in her stomach evolved into a feeling like someone had just taken a knife and attempted to gut her like a-

Oh my god. The baby. Her eyes immediately popped open when everything came flooding back all at once. The first round of premature labor, Daryl showing up out of nowhere, Daryl storming out of her room all upset, then round two of labor. It didn't take her too long to piece together that Dena had taken the baby. She could feel his absence now, and as a result found herself starting to pray out loud that this empty feeling was nothing more than typical post-pardum emotions and not indicative of anything more.

She was just about to call for Dena when she noticed Daryl was there, sleeping in the chair by her bedside. Also by her bedside: One of the little plastic, see-through bassinets that they had for the newborn babies, complete with a newborn baby inside. If she'd had any control over her emotions whatsoever, she would have made an attempt to keep quiet for the benefit of sleeping Daryl, but the cry that was a crazy cocktail of relief, surprise, and just pure joy had escaped her before she had the chance. Two seconds later, Daryl was right there at her side, embracing her.

"Ssssh, it's OK. Everything is OK" he whispered soothingly as held her tight, forcing her to consider just for a second that she might not mind spending the next half hour or so exactly like that, but it was something that would have to go on the backburner for later, after she got the chance to hold their son.

"Oh God, I need to see him-"

She needn't say any more for Daryl was already pulling the bassinet toward them until it was close enough where he could carefully extract their sleeping baby. She watched the scene in awe, paying special attention to just how gentle he was with their son, but it really shouldn't have come as a surprise, at least not in the same way she'd been totally floored seeing him with Judith the first time. For someone who never before got to play the role of dad, and who had a pretty shitty one of his own as a role model, he was a natural with the little ones, and that happened to be one of the major players which aided her in completely solving the riddle of Daryl Dixon.

"Well mama, are you ready to hold your daughter?"

"What," she asked with a look of such utter disbelief that Daryl could not refrain from getting a good chuckle over it, forcing him to blow the entire joke before he even got the chance to really lead her on.

"I'm just kiddin," he said as he made the careful transferral of the baby from his arms to hers, followed-up with a kiss to her forehead. "Meet your son-"

"Our son," she was quick to correct him as tears of pride and joy began cascading down her cheeks. "He even looks just like I imagined he would," she remarked admiringly, her eyes never straying from her baby boy's adorable little face. "Like you."

"Why you wishin' this ugly mug on our kid. I definitely think he takes after his mama more."

Knowing her strength was not at it's best coming fresh off a surgery and one hell of a traumatic episode in general, he had climbed in bed beside her to offer his own arms as a safety net as she held the baby, which provided her with the perfect opportunity to jab him in the stomach with her elbow for that remark.

"Oh shut up, you are not ugly. Do you really think I'd allow myself to procreate with you if you were, I mean please...I have my standards."

A clever comeback was quick to come to mind as such quips typically did whenever he and Carol would find themselves getting into one of their little playful banters, but before it could find the means to escape, Daryl had found himself consumed by another thought: just how close he'd come to losing that forever. That and the countless other things that he loved about her so much and made Carol so special.

But it wasn't like this was the first time the thought had occurred to him. He'd pretty much spent the majority of the past ten hours making that very subject the main focus of many long, man-to-man conversations with his son, along with other popular topics such as, 'how to know when you've found the one,' and, 'what NOT to do if you don't want to screw things up.' Of course he, as dad and primary male role model, now had a huge responsibilty to lead by example, and that would require that his actions must live upto the promise of his word. It was this particular pondering which produced the unexpected response to their last little bit of silliness.

"I love you," he murmured beside her ear, while his arms strengthened the intensity of his embrace on her, offering a physical companion to the long overdue verbal confession.

It was the first time she managed to take her eyes off their son since he'd been placed in her arms, but her attention was now both required and more deserved elsewhere. It was a huge thing for him to say, (when he was with it enough to realize he was saying it,) regardless of the fact that she already knew, and had known it to be so for years, not counting his dazed prior confession the day their son was conceived. Showing any kind of affection at all toward basically anyone who was old enough to speak had been a struggle for him, and really, there was nothing that could possibly make a person feel more vulnerable than throwing out the 'L word' with the hopeful expectation of hearing it back. He had to know she felt the same, and even though she would have been perfectly content living out the rest of her life alongside him without ever hearing him utter the phrase once or subjecting him to the call-and-response test herself, she didn't hesitate to reply because she would at least be speaking the truth.

"I know you do. I love you too. You have to know that." It didn't hurt to say it, and it sure as hell didn't feel or sound the least bit forced, like the way it did when she would say it back to Ed, dating way back before things even started getting bad. It was this misuse of the term which had turned her off from both using it and needing to hear it, but somehow, now that it had been declared official on both ends in this particular relationship, she imagined she could get used to using it more regularly herself from now on. It was amazing how different those words sounded coming from both parties when it's path was one hundred percent straight and unfiltered from the heart.

"Boy this kid is in for it," Daryl said as he reached his hand down just in time for the baby to grab and wrap his entire tiny little hand around his pinky finger. "Look at our boy. Got himself born right into the middle of the damn Brady Bunch. We keep goin' at this rate, before you know it we'll be making decisions based on the outcome of a potato sack race."

Carol truly couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so heartily; the kind that really could only be acheived when you truly didn't have a care in the world. It was a bit of an overstatement, cuz there certainly were a few remaining unanswered questions weighing heavily on her mind, but every single thing that she really needed to move forward in life with was currently right there with her in that room, and for now that was all that she needed to feel at peace.

"You know what I think? I think this kid needs a name. I hope you don't mind, but I've had some time to think up a few."

"A'ight, but I'm tellin' ya right now, Greg, Peter, and Bobby are off the table."

"Oliver?"

"You really want our kid to get beat up that bad?"

"Could be worse. We could name him Beaver, or Pugsley."

"Keep goin'."

As much as the idea was entertaining, she pulled herself together for the sake of giving this baby an official name once and for all. She had one in particular in mind, all that was needed now was the official stamp of approval from his daddy.

"OK, seriously now. So, I was thinking, since neither one of us really has any special male in their life that they'd care to name him after, and I knew you wouldn't go for Daryl Junior, I was thinking Alexander. In honor of us. All of us."

"Yeah," he replied with a satisfied grin and nod to the head which accurately displayed his complete agreement. "It's perfect. Alexander Glenn Dixon. What you think?"

Her smile and nod was the answer to that particular question, but her words chose to express her feelings on the day in general instead. After one last exchange of glances between the two amazing men, big and small, she'd been gifted in life, she finally responded, "I think I couldn't be any happier than I am right now."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

3 Weeks Following Previous Chapter / The Day Before Present Day

Thornton House

Carol hovered over the bassinette housing her sleeping baby boy, trying to gather up the nerve to walk away and leave him in the care of someone other than Daryl or herself for the first time since he'd been born. It didn't matter that the person who was going to be watching for him for the evening happened to be Dena, who was by far the single-most qualified person for the job next in line to the boy's parents themselves; it still felt to her like she was abandoning him in some way. It was a feeling which she couldn't shake even though she was fully aware of how completely ridiculous it was. After all, it was only for one night, and he was going to be no further away than right across the hall and in the company of two more baby boys that arrived in the home soon after he did with whom he'd already become well acquainted with through her own interaction with them. As a result of her excessive loitering where she was no longer welcome, she found herself being told to shoo by Dena again.

"He's going to be fine, now get your ass back in that room and enjoy some quality time with your man."

She rolled her eyes at Dena, but the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth ratted out the fact that she was hardly as annoyed as the gesture might suggest. Sure, there was a little part of her that thought it to be silly considering she could count the hours that she and Daryl had spent apart since Xander, their son's preferred nickname, was born on one hand, spanning a three week timeframe, but she also couldn't deny that there was a part of her that had been yearning for the opportunity being presented. It was something that Dena had insisted upon after learning that Daryl was planning to go back to Alexandria the following day.

Carol and Daryl both had been shocked to learn that when Scout had made it to Alexandria in her search for Daryl that the place was completely deserted, and for a moment Carol found herself questioning whether or not Daryl had been honest with her about the war's outcome this time as well. When his reaction had been just as surprised as her own however, she found herself assured that he'd told her the truth just as she'd suspected he had; at least as far as he knew it before leaving months ago himself in his quest to find her.

It was never in their plans not to go back, but this discovery prompted them into making the decision together that Daryl would make a solo return trip sooner than the original six week period they intended to wait before heading back as a family, when she would be fully recovered from surgery. She was only halfway through that mark now, but she was feeling well enough to make the much anticipated return trip home provided the coast was clear and there was still a home to return to. If there wasn't, then that meant that Daryl could potentially be gone for an extended period of time, as he promised to return with at least some kind of update on the group's status, and lord only knew what gathering that information might the thought that it could very well be a matter of days or weeks or more since she would see him again fresh in her mind, she found the strength to bravely walk away and retreat back to her room across the hall where Daryl awaited.

For a moment after first stepping inside, she thought that maybe he'd climbed in bed and fallen asleep while waiting for her to make up her mind whether or not she could bear to leave their son behind for the night. The room was quite dark in contrast to the bright, flourescent lighting that illuminated the hallway outside, but once her eyes had time to adjust, they were greeted by the soothing glow of soft candlelight.

Although it was the first time for this particular sweet gesture, it didn't surprise her in the least that Daryl Dixon was tuning into his romantic side now that the relationship barrier had been broken. They were a couple now, not that it was something that was actually discussed, but rather just all fell into place organically, they way they both always hoped it would with the right person at the right time, well before they even knew each other existed aside from the belief that 'the one' was out there, somewhere. As it turned out, the candlelight was merely a mood-setting backdrop for the other pleasantries that awaited her that evening.

One of the candles that contributed to the ambiance of the room came from atop of one of the little bistro tables, attempted at being disguised by the red tablecloth draped over it, stolen off the front porch of Thornton House complete with the two chairs which accompanied it. At each seat, a plate of delectable-smelling food awaited, paired with a drink that she presumed to be Dena's famous lemonade, and of course the obligatory eating utensils and napkin. Only one of these placesettings however had the single, red rose in the vase that was just the perfect size for presenting the solo offering and lending the perfect romantic touch.

"Hey," his voice came from behind, followed quickly by the wrap of his arms around her upper body to accompanying his greeting. "Did our little man finally nod off," he buzzed in her ear as his lips sought out a cheek to land his kiss upon.

"Yeah, finally," she replied with a twinge of guilt as she allowed their son to be at blame for her tardiness when he'd pretty much conked out within the first five minutes of her half-hour total absence. "I can see you've been busy," she remarked in observance of the many noticable changes to their bedroom that had taken place within that same timeframe.

"Well, I hired some help. You know I can't cook for shit unless it involves some meat on a skewer over an open flame."

"Are those what I think they are? The fabled venison steaks? The ones that you actually have to submit a written request to get?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, with just a trace of an impish twinkle in his eyes. "It's all in who you know, and I just happen to know this amazing woman who knows how to win the hearts of everyone she meets."

It was that moment that she ripped herself free of his embrace, but only long enough to spin around so she could see him face to face. Even in the dim-lit room she could see him blushing. He was still just as shy and awkward showing affection as she was receiving it, but one of the many beauties of their relationship had always been that their strengths in completely opposite areas perfectly complemented the other's weakness in a way that made them whole when unified. And the more practice they got, which for the record they'd gotten a good deal of over the past three weeks, the better they were getting at it! So much so that things like holding hands and general audience approved kisses were now deemed acceptable for public display. She couldn't help but wonder though if this showing of PDA would come as easily for them before the Alexandria crew, where this new dynamic between them was likely to draw a good deal of attention which could be unwittingly intimidating to this brand new coupling whose participants were both still just a little bit backwards in the relationship department.

Perhaps that was just a whole lot of over-thinking things to begin with too considering the fact that not once did any one of them ever come to Daryl or herself and ask what was up between the two of them. It didn't take a rocket scientist to observe that their feelings for each other ran deep, and she imagined that the thoughts were indeed present in their minds even though the question wasn't being asked. Just like they all knew there was something special between Rick and Michonne well before the more-subtle hugs soon escalated into tender, loving kisses. And just like Rick and Michonne, she was sure that there would be no need to make an official announcement or feel the need to explain the existence of something that had already been present for a very long time. It was after this thought that she shook her head at her own silliness, and returned her focus to enjoying the evening.

"Well, considering this is such an honor, it would be a shame to let them get cold," She said, right before leaning up on the tips of her toes to deliver a quick kiss to his lips. "And as is usual these days, I'm so hungry I could eat a tin can."

The two dined on their meal consisting of the deer meat, baked potatoes, and brussles sprouts, and in conversation, Daryl learned a new fact about Carol, being that the vegetable of choice was her absolute favorite, while he shared that he had pretty much detested vegetables in general until recent years, when he developed a newfound appreciation for basically anything edible that he could get his hands on. It was actually nice to just talk about random shit once in a while, but as hard as they tried to keep conversation light, they both knew that each other's thoughts were elsewhere, worrying about the fate of those back home and whatever potential conflict Daryl might come across in his efforts to find answers.

"Promise me you won't think any less of me if I tell you somethin," Daryl said, being the first to officially drag Debbie Downer into the conversation.

"That I can promise for the simple fact that my brain is incapable of thinking that way about you," she replied as she reached across the tiny table and grabbed a hold of his hand to show her unwavering support. "What's troubling you, boo?"

After a brief moment of finding himself hesitant to share, he remembered who he was talking to, and that was the one person in the world with whom he had learned he could confess all his deepest, darkest secrets too, free from any judgment. "I don't wanna go. I know I have to, and not cuz I think you expect me to or anything like that, but because they're family, and that's how we take care of our own. But I don't wanna leave you and our son either, cuz it's not like it was before. I was OK with goin' off and takin' the chance that I might not come back. That's not true anymore."

She tightened her grip on his hand and offerd a sympathetic smile. "If it's words of encouragement you seek, I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree, Pookie," she said, with a chuckle thrown in to accompany the term of endearment she used with him jokingly on frequent occasions. This drew a smile from him as well, which was the precise reaction she'd been aiming for. "I'd love nothing more than for you to stay, but you know as well as I do, when it comes to the people we care about, we're incapable of just sitting back and doing nothing. When you've made up your mind you're going to do something, not a damn person can tell you otherwise. Not even me."

He got up out of his seat now, and dropped to his knees beside her chair. "I can't stop thinkin' about what happens if I don't come back. About what happens to you, and Alexander." He had both of her hands entwined now within his, and he was peering into her eyes with a look of love that was so intense she would never feel the need to question it for as long as she lived.

"I don't mean to make it sound like I think you'd be lost without me. You're the strongest woman I've ever known, and that was true before our son came along. You'll go on, and you'll be the best mother and ass-kickin' role model there ever was."

"Oh Daryl, will you stop it," she responded to his morbid ponderings with an agitation that was gowing more intense by each suceeding word. "Stop talking like you're gonna go out there and get yourself killed tomorrow."

"I'm sorry," he said with a sigh, followed with an arm thrust behind her neck to coax her head downward for a kiss on the forehead. "I'm not trying to make you worry, and I sure as hell don't plan on croakin' anytime soon. Man, I really suck at this."

"Suck at what," she said as she chuckled in response to his amusing self-criticism.

"Lemme just start over, a'ight?"

She nodded, then proceeded to plant a kiss on his forehead intended to be his signal to proceed.

"It would just really suck if somethin' happened, to either one of us for that matter, before I got the chance to prove to you how much I love you."

She rolled her eyes, and was instantly regretful of the gesture so much so that she found herself blabbing out an apology for the inconsiderate behavior immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I just...I know. I know you love you me, and I don't need you to prove anything! I mean, what do you even consider 'proof' anyway, you certainly-"

She was fully aware she was babbling like an idiot, again falling victim to her struggles with receiving affection, but before she could even finish her ranting, Daryl had made his version of proof visable to her naked eye. Withdrawing his hand from his pocket, he slowly unclenched his fist to reveal two silver bands resting in the palm of his hand.

"What is this," she found herself asking with horror, as she was fully aware of not only exactly what they were, but what their intended purpose was as well.

"It's not enough that you know how I feel, not anymore. I want everyone to know, cuz that's what you deserve, and I don't ever want to leave our son wondering how in the hell his dad managed to drop the ball on that one."

It was amazing how much the very same things she'd been telling herself didn't matter for years suddenly became some of the most important events in her life, like hearing the 'I love yous' from Daryl, and having another child of her own after Sophia's loss, and now, this. She couldn't have been more grateful that the powers-that-be chose not to hear the foolish ramblings of the few insecurities that lingered with her for a bit as a parting gift from Ed. She was happy now to have discovered their existence so she could bid them fairwell once and for all. Now all that was left was to officially give her consent, but first, she needed to hear the question.

"That is, of course, all dependent on whether or not you actually want to be my wife. I'm not gonna like club ya over the head and drag ya into a cave and make ya or anything."

"Of course I do," she said as she slid off the chair into his arms, completely enveloping him in an all-encompassing, full-body hug before a ring exchange could be made, forcing him to secure them in his grip once more for the time being. The two became lost in this embrace for an indeterminable amount of time and only parted ways knowing there was still a bit of unfinished business left to discuss before they found themselves lost in emotion for the remainder of the evening.

It was Carol who pulled away first, wipingaway happy tears from her cheeks with the palms of her hands as she grinned like she always imagined one of those fools in love would.

"Can I have my ring now," she asked, thrusting her hand toward him and wiggling the finger that was the presumed recipient of the symbol of their devotion to one another.

"Oh yeah," he replied, putting the rings on display once more, and selecting the smaller of the two which he proceeded to place on her finger. "So, there's somethin' I want you to know about these rings, cuz it's important," he began as he took the time to admire just how lovely the new hardware looked on her tiny hand. "I didn't get 'em off a walker, or find 'em out on a run or anything. I didn't even know I was gonna do this 'til a few days ago, so I had to improvise a bit. One of the times you were nappin', I was outside smokin' a cigarette and I got talkin' with Scout. She had this really cool necklace on I'm sure you've seen that I made a comment about, and she told me that she had done it herself, fiddlin' around in the shop one day. It was a key to her old house that she had kept as a memento, but shaped into a heart. I got the idea and asked her if she could make me somethin' too. I told her what I wanted to make, but didn't necessarily have anything special to make it out of, so I stole a part off the bike."

"I couldn't love another one more," she said with wistful smile, accompanied by a soothing tone of her voice that was nothing but one of pure sincerity. "And that is special to me. That bike brings you back safe to me every time."

"I s'pose, long as the part I stole wasn't the one that was holdin' everything together."

"Don't jinx yourself. Here, gimme that."

With that demand, she roughly grabbed the other ring and promptly slipped it on his finger to match the one on hers. "There. Now I'll never leave you, and you're sure as hell not allowed to ever leave me, deal Mr. Dixon?"

With a smile so bright on his face that made Carol so sure she would never in her life forget it, he answered her question to her complete satisfaction. "Deal, Mrs. Dixon."

Words were few for the remainder of the evening as their expressions of love took a physical turn, although never quite reaching the heights that they were both eager to explore once more since physical activities of all varieties, wink wink, were still forbidden by Dena for at least a couple more weeks following her surgery. There would be ample time for that in the future however, God willing, and considering that as of late He seemed to always be on their side, they fell asleep in each others arms that night, resting assured that soon they would have the opportunity to officially consummate their marriage in their new roles of husband and wife.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Present Day

Carol was pacing the room, simultaneously rocking Alexander in her arms in a desperate attempt to soothe her crying baby boy to sleep. He'd been atypically cranky all day which had prompted her into obsessively checking his vitals every hour on the hour, and when she could find nothing wrong with him, she had made Dena double-check her work just to be on the safe side. When the doc swore up and down that he was absolutely fine just as all of her training should have assured her he was, Carol could then only come up with one explanation: he was missing Daryl just as much as she was.

"I simply cannot believe that one so small can make such a racket," Dena's voice came from behind her. The arrival of her friend in the room aided in temporarily stalling the next round of imagining what thousand-and-one horrible things could be happening to Daryl right now, and she was therefore grateful for the interruption.

"I think he just misses his daddy," Carol said, proposing her most recent conclusion for Dena's approval.

"Or, he can't help but notice what a nervous wreck his mother is."

Carol let out a deep sigh as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Dena had this incredibly annoying knack of being able to read her like a book. "If everything back home is fine, then he should be back by now. It's been almost six hours. Round trip should only take four."

Dena was spared the task of coming up with possible best-case scenarios when Mackenzie's crackly voice interrupted from the walkie clipped to her belt.

"You there mama bear? Tell Carol that Daryl and company are inbound!"

Dena smiled adoringly at her friend, whose face just all of a sudden went from Eeyore to Tigger in a microsecond.

"She's right here with me and heard the good news. Thanks, baby bear!"  
Immediately after returning the walkie to her belt clip, she approached Carol with extended arms that were aimed right at her baby. "I'll put him down," she explained as she extracted Alexander from his mother's arms without any objections. "You go on and have a nice little reunion with your friends."

Carol leaned in to give her son one little parting peck to the forehead but before she went trotting off, she found herself compelled to give her new friend one heck of a power hug that was well overdue.

"Words can't thank you enough for all that you've done for us."

"Ah, you'll make it up to me," Dena replied with a wink as if she actually needed to convince Carol that she was merely joking. "For starters, don't expect to receive a paycheck for all your work here. And I'm not paying you when you come back either, and you ARE coming back. If I have to send Scout up there after you again, I will."

"I am," Carol confirmed with a nod. "But I need my quality family time first." She left her with that statement, then proceeded with her descent downstairs, which there was quite a few of in the huge mansion with the impressive river view. There was also more than one set of staircases connecting the three floors, but she chose the main one which offered the most direct route to the front door, and not for the purpose of making a grand entrance, even though it ended up playing out that way.

She had only made it about a third of the way down the final set of stairs when Daryl, Rick and Michonne suddenly appeared through the front door. She was so eager to hug them that for a moment she actually contemplated leaping straight from her current location right into their arms, but when logic reminded her the action would likely cause injury to one or all of them, she grabbed the railing and held tight for the much-needed support to her rubbery knees.

"Hey ma, look what I found," Daryl said with the same goofy grin that seemed to match the one of every other person in the hall. It wasn't the only facial expression that was shared though. Every one of them also had the same glassy eyes, and it became somewhat of a contest to see which one of them was actually going to cry first.

Just as Carol suspected would be the case, it was herself, but if anyone were to blame it would be Rick because he was the one who charged right for her when she still had a good three steps more to go, and plucked her from the staircase and into his arms, proceeding to spin her around until determining it was time to stop when he took a stumble to his left.

"It's so good to see you," Rick finally said, with his hands framing her face as he performed the typical visual inspection one usually did following extended periods of time away from a loved one. He hadn't got much information out of Daryl, but she appeared to be both healthy and happy which instantly laid to rest at least a couple of his theories.

"You too. I've been so worried about you, all of you."

It was here that she turned her attention to Michonne, who was patiently waiting her turn for a hug.

"Likewise, sister," Michonne said as she hugged her more tightly than her own sister ever did. "Are you ok?"

It seemed like a stupid question amongst the group that had nothing but smiles all around, but it was sure a more polite and subtle segue into finally getting some answers as to why in the hell Carol ever left in the first place. They were all dying to know, but it was more curiosity right now than anything. Michonne truly felt in her heart that she was speaking for both herself and Rick at least, if no one else, that whatever reasons she had really didn't matter. After all, Daryl certainly seemed to be OK with whatever happened and usually that was good enough for the pair of them as well. Bottom line was they were all just so thankful she was alive and apparently well and eager to return home, and they couldn't be happier to comply with her wish.

Carol responded with an emphatic nod. "I'm more than OK. Come on," she said as she extended her hands, one to Michonne and the other to Rick, expecting them to each take one in return. "Let's go somewhere where we can relax and play catch-up."

From beyond Rick and Michonne, Daryl shot her a wink, then blew her a kiss and nodded in the direction of the staircase as an indication that he was heading upstairs, presumably to go and say hello to their little man. For Rick and Michonne's benefit however, he made the announcement, "I'll be right back. I'm goin' to the can."

"So, did Daryl tell you anything about this place," Carol asked in effort to determining where she should actually begin as she led the couple into one of the mansion's parlors, which was now simply one of the 'common areas' of the multi-family dwelling, slash maternity ward of the community as a whole.

"Not much, only that you were taken in by good people. I have to say, I'm impressed by what I've seen so far."

"Well, you should be. This is a great place. Not only is it safe, but the people here...they're like us. They didn't just throw up a wall and pray for the best. They fought for this place, and worked hard to make it what it is today. God, I sound like I'm the official PR person for this place or something. I hope you don't think this place is not the reason I stayed away so long. It's not like I chose them over you or anything."

"Carol, you don't need to explain," Rick finally said, officially confirming Michonne's earlier private assumptions. "We're just all so happy you want to come home. I wish you could have seen Carl when Daryl came home. He was so excited to see Daryl, but when he saw that you weren't with him, he was crushed, we all were, until Daryl told us you were OK."

"I'm sorry to have put you all though that. I love you all so much. You need to know that I really had a damn good reason for leaving."

At this point, she looked up when Daryl entered the room, and she thought he just might have brought down Alexander with him so she could relay her explanation in the form of a show-and-tell, but when Daryl shut his eyes and let his head lean toward his shoulder, she knew that was his way of communicating that their son was sleeping and he had declined to disturb him.

"Well I only want to hear it if you just need to get it off your chest. "

"I do," Carol was in the midst of replying when Daryl settled down into the empty seat beside her, but since Rick wasn't pressing for answers, she seized the opportunity to delay the explanation just a little bit longer with the hope that Alexander would wake up soon and she could resort to using the preferred show-and-tell method. She therefore chose to divert the conversation by asking those questions of her own that, unlike Rick, she needed to know the answers to. "But I guess since you're not as desperate for answers as me, maybe you can help me out here a bit first. How's everything been, since Daryl left."

Rick began to chuckle at the cheap shot he was about to take at his best buddy. "Well, quiet for one. Wasn't getting woken up at three in the morning on a nightly basis by a motorcycle buzzing by."

"Oh yeah? I seem to remember someone cryin' like a little bitch just a few hours ago when he heard my bike."

Once again Rick found himself the punchline of the joke which brought the other three to tears from all the laughing at his expense. He imagined that if things continued on like that once back at home, eventually he and Daryl might end up in a playful rumble or two out on the front lawn over it, but for now it only warmed his heart because thanks to moments like this, things in general were just starting to feel normal again. The new definition of normal, that is.

"Things have been good," Michonne finally stepped up to explain since Rick had chosen to sit there and sulk instead of continuing on. "Maggie had the baby. Daryl said that was the one thing you were dying to know."

"Yeah," Carol replied, nodding emphatically as her hand absent-mindedly reached over and nested on top of Daryl's. She caught herself in the act and promptly removed her hand as a result, not because she was trying to hide the fact that their dynamic had changed, but rather in effort to carefully choose her moment. The little gesture had gone over Rick's head completely, but instantly caught the eye of Michonne who witnessed every second of her brief little slip-up. Carol was pretty sure that it had taken her all of about two seconds to piece together at least part of the story, made evident by the fact that she seemed to be particularly interested by the ring on her finger, but just as she had suspected, Michonne's reaction seemed to be more like, 'ok, so this is how things are now,' than 'Oh. My. God, Becky. Carol and Daryl are like a thing now." She felt completely at ease, and quite honestly, a little tickled by the fact that Michonne was now in on at least a little part of the secret.

"She named him Herschel," Michonne went on to explain with the knowledge that Carol was onto the fact that she was onto Carol, and Daryl for that matter. "Girl, wait to you see him. He is just the most adorable little boy that you will ever lay eyes on."

"Really, would you swear to that," Daryl asked as he began to chuckle, which in turn prompted Carol to join in, resulting in the two of them appearing to apparently be on the inside circle of some private joke.

"What, you don't believe that little Herschel is a cutie-patootie or somethin'," Michonne asked in disbelief, aiming the question directly at Daryl for the simple fact that he was the first to find her statement amusing for some reason.

"Nah, I ain't sayin' that, it's just that those are some pretty strong words. I'm sure he's adorable and all, but to say that he's THE most adrobable little baby boy...I dunno."

Carol couldn't help but back Daryl up on this one. "Right, I mean, I'm sure he's more than just adorable. I'd go so far to say that he's got to be one heck of a handsome little man, but to say he's THE cutest. I might have an issue with that too." Turning her attention to Daryl now, and away from the completely flabbergasted Richonne pairing, Carol simply nodded in an upward direction which Daryl took as his cue to collect Alexander and bring him down to meet the family, sleeping or not.

"Alright girl, now you're weirding me out a little bit," Michonne said when Daryl was clear out of the room. "I know you two are just kidding around, but I don't get the joke."

"Me neither," Rick said, as cluelessly as usual.

"You will. Give it another minute or so, and then everything will make sense."

Carol was nothing but smiles as Michonne stared her down, and she knew her dear friend's brain was working overtime now as she raced to solve the riddle before she could break it down into easy-to-chew pieces for them. She herself was good at reading people, but Michonne had this crazy talent for being able to accurately size up a situation with little to no verbal bits of intel to work with. She wasn't even shocked, or disappointed in some way therefore, when she deduced that Michonne was beginning to piece it all together just as Daryl reentered the room with a sleeping Alexander cradled in the crook of his arm.

He approached the love seat where Rick and Michonne sat, and settled himself down between the two of them without any getting any proper clearance from them first, resulting in him just about landing on their laps. Normally either one of them would have been inclined to punch him in the arm for such a move, but being that he had a baby as his shield, he knew he would be safe for now. Once situated, Daryl carefully weaned Alexander out of his arms and gently placed him across his lap without disturbing his slumber so that he was now in a perfect viewing position for the benefit of both parties.

"Now this one right here. HE is THE most handsome little fella that you will see in your entire life."

Michonne immediately looked to Carol who was admiring the scene from afar with a mixture of such pride and awe, and knew in an instant that she was looking at the baby's mother. And one more glance back to the certifiably adorable little baby resting atop Daryl's knees confirmed that his fondness of the child had to do with much more than the simple fact that the baby's mother just happened to be his BFF. The sweet little face was already a spitting image of Daryl, even in this awkward early stage when most babies really just looked like little aliens, but she supposed that was easy enough to identify when you knew what you were looking to find in the first place.

Rick on the other hand appeared more confused than even before, prompting Daryl to pick up Alexander and force him on his perplexed buddy.

"Well come on, don't you want to hold your nephew?"

Once the baby was in his arms, it was Rick's turn to steal a glance at Carol now, and suddenly he understood what she meant about everything making sense. Yeah, he was well aware of the fact that he was the last one to catch on, and once again they were all getting some amusement at his expense over it, but in the end, it was he who had the last laugh considering the fact that his ignorance just happened to be the very thing that awarded him the honor of being the first one between himself and Michonne who got to hold the newest addition to their family.

Carol came to join them now, taking a seat on the arm of the love seat on Rick's end where she could observe this beautiful family moment a little more intimately.

"We named him Alexander, in honor of our home," she explained as she reached down to stroke her son's cheek which caused the baby to react by smiling although he remained asleep. "Alexander Glenn Dixon is his full, official name."

"Pretty tough name, right," Daryl inquired as he nudged Rick in the rib cage.

"It's good, I'll give you that. I think Rick might have been a better one."

It was exactly at that moment that Alexander awoke and began to cry. Of course the true reason was that it was simply dinnertime, but Daryl insisted it was in response to the poor name choice instead.

"You know I've had just about enough of you," Rick said, turning to Daryl after Carol relieved him of baby duty to prepare for her son's feeding.

"What? You wanna take this outside," Daryl growled back in response, which sparked a roll of the eyes ftom both Carol and Michonne.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do," Rick said as he sprang to his feet and began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

Daryl was on his feet now, and got right up in his face, so close that if he just happened to tilt ever-so-slightly forward he might as well just kiss the guy. "Well, let's go then."

"Play nice, boys," Carol admonished them as the two brushed past where she and Michonne now sat side-by-side while she took to the task of breastfeeding Alexander. For a moment she had thought that was it and they had both fled the room, but before she knew it Daryl was back, leaning over the back of the love seat to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt him too bad. We'll need to bring him back alive if we want them to let us in back home."

"Give him one for me, Daryl. For that brownie," Michonne called after him when he trotted off again, and received a thumbs-up in response right before he disappeared through the door frame.

As soon as Daryl was out the door he found himself the victim of a good shove which landed him right up against one of the thick, round columns that supported the covered porch. He retaliated the dirty move by charging at Rick, and putting him in a headlock that lasted all of about two seconds before he released him, and found himself hugging his bro instead. No surprise to Rick, who of course knew that their little spat had been nothing more than your typical brotherly horseplay.

"You're right, you know," Rick was the first to speak upon Daryl releasing him from his grip, just in time before the embrace started reaching an awkward stage. "That is one good-lookin' kid. I still don't know how you're responsible for that-"

"Yeah, me neither," Daryl said as withdrew a pack of smokes from his vest pocket, and distributed one to Rick before placing one for himself in the corner of his mouth which he immediately lit, then offered the open flame to Rick.

"What? You know I don't smoke."

"Today you do. Come on man, I ain't got no cigars, this is gonna have to do."

Rick nodded and complied, not wanting to be the party-pooper who denied Daryl from fulfilling one of those new dad traditions that he probably had spent much of his life thinking he would never be a participant in.

"So you and Carol," Rick began, pausing there as he decided to leave the rest of where the conversation goes up to Daryl.

"I love her, man," he finally replied, after a long pause while he considered his response carefully, just to make sure it was delivered with the integrity it deserved. "I've loved her for a very long time."

"This face might look like I don't know what in the hell is going on half the time, but I know," Rick said with a nod as he patted Daryl on the back. "We all do, you know?"

"I s'pose," he said with a shy grin as he shrugged in indifference. "But you'll never understand how much."

Inside, a similar conversation between the two women was taking place, and later on it would be Rick and Carol, then Daryl and Michonne, and then the group of them reunited again to play a thorough game of catch- up of anything and everything that happened in between which, just as Carol had suspected, lasted into the wee hours of the morning. After a good night's sleep for all, the plan was to pack up and head back to Alexandria, but Carol had just one more thing on her agenda to do tomorrow before they left, and that was to present Rick with her case which explained exactly why she would need to leave them again soon.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty Five

The Following Day

With Daryl behind the wheel and the rest of the crew in the back seat, the Alexandrians, complete with their newest addition, were finally heading home. It was well after noon now which was a much later departure time than Rick had in mind, but Carol had insisted upon giving him and Michonne the grand tour of Riverview before they left as well as introducing them to some of the community's key residents, particularly Dena of course.

They were both anxious to meet the woman who had saved Carol and her son's life and much to Carol's delight, they seemed to be just as infatuated with their friendly new allies as she had been almost instantly upon her arrival. Most impressive to them was the size of the place: it was about three times bigger than Alexandria in area alone, with about ten times the amount of residents, a good percentage of which were young children.

They learned that the 'baby boom' as Dena referred to it, was something that really didn't quite take off until the Riverview residents had found themselves somewhat settled. For years the idea of anyone having a baby in this day and age was considered taboo by most, but it was something that never quite made sense to Dena. Why bother fighting for something so hard if you have no intention of leaving something behind for future generations? Were they really building all these walls, and fighting all these wars, just to one day fizzle out completely because the very last one of them died off from natural causes? That was exactly the lecture she had given them all when their very first resident became pregnant.

From then on, the idea of reproducing had become a lot less daunting for the residents of Riverview thanks not only to the fact that the delivery of their first baby was a success, but also because they actually had a functioning hospital and four professionally trained doctors who were eager to teach willing individuals everything they knew, which in turn generated dozens more honorary doctors into the community over time. Relationships also began evolving into full-fledged 'marriages' more frequently because partners were no longer secretly terrified of losing one or the other. Even those who went outside the walls to scavenge or recruit and found themselves bit by a walker had a decent chance of surviving as long as the bite occurred on a disposable body part. They were growing stronger both in number and spirit by the day, and it was all because Dena and her team never stopped fighting for what Riverview could one day be, even when others didn't see it.

That was why there was no way Carol was going to let Rick or Michonne leave without seeing this place for themselves, but Rick especially. It was her and Daryl, and ironically Carl sans Rick, who were the only ones of the group that had been together since day one, but it was Rick who had led them all to where they are now after coming into their lives shortly thereafter, even though his role of leader wasn't necessarily self-appointed. He earned that role because he earned the respect of the group due to the fact that he never stopped believing that there was purpose in continuing on, and not just simply for the sake of survival, but because there had to be something more for them in the end.

When she had left, although the groups were indeed committed to winning the war, morale in general was at an all-time low with many left wondering if there really was going to be a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Yes, there was peace for now, but Carol also got the impression that there was also a whole lot of uncertainty about where to go from here on, and she had no qualms whatsoever about stepping up to the plate and be that voice that they all needed to hear this time.

"So, what did you think about Dena's offer," Carol asked Rick and Michonne, the latter of whom held the current privilege of holding baby Alexander.

"Well, I think that's pretty generous, and it certainly speaks a lot about how she thinks of you, to invite an entire community to just move on in after really only getting to know one of it's residents."

"I was looking for more of a yes or no kind of response," Carol replied to Rick with the scolding voice of an elementary school teacher.

"Well, I don't think I can answer for everybody. I think they should all get to see this place and then decide for themselves."

Carol nodded agreeably. "You're right. You're absolutely right. After all, like you said it is a generous offer. One that would be hard for anyone to refuse."

"It definitely does stop and make you think. You've had a lot of time to think about it. What do you want to do?"

"Me? I'm going back."

"Yeah, I knew you would," Rick confessed. "It's pretty obvious, you know."

"Oh really, what is so obvious" Carol inquired, finding herself annoyed by his presumption that she would really even dream of doing such a thing on a permanent basis, even though she was admittedly toying him into believing it in the first place.

"That you're full of shit, Mrs. Dixon. See, I know you know me and you know what I want, because it's the very same thing that Michonne, and Daryl, and you yourself want. You don't want to live in that place because you know that together, we can make Alexandria something even better, and there's no way that you'd miss an opportunity to be a part of that."

"She already is a part of that hoss, just as much as your ass is," Daryl chimed in from the front seat in defense of his queen.

"Does he do this with you, try and find fault with everything you say" Rick inquired of Carol regarding Daryl's former comment.

Carol shook her head to the negative with a bemused grin. "I think that's just what little brothers do."

Her response to Rick unexpectedly triggered a dream sequence in which her little boy appeared to be about five years old, and was tugging on her pant leg as he proceeded to accuse his big sister Sophia of being too bossy. It saddened her that this scene would never have the opportunity to play itself out in real life, but she could certainly do her part in helping to prevent any parent from having to suffer similarly, and that involved taking on multiple responsibilities within the community which spanned every topic from teaching the existing children how to defend themselves and fight, to bringing inbound babies into the world herself.

They had no doctor whatsoever in Alexandria, and the single doctor they knew was left currently residing in Hilltop was simply not enough to serve three communities. Sure, by this time most survivors were pros at basic first aid, but when it came to the more serious injuries like bites that required major amputations, or knife or gunshot wounds that affected vital organs, the survival rates were currently not in their favor for lack of properly trained individuals.

And those were just the accident and injury-related emergencies, which they probably had a much better chance of surviving than an appendicitis attack, or a gall bladder gone bad, heart attacks...you name it, there was absolutely no one in Alexandria who was prepared for that. Well, no one until now.

She was no pro, that was for sure, and there was a heck of a lot left to learn in addition to the little bits and pieces she picked up during her stay at Riverview, but with the proper training, she could be that person. It wasn't something that was going to get accomplished overnight, or even within a year or two, but a work in progress was better than having nothing at all.

Naturally, part of receiving proper training was working side by side with qualified individuals, which was why Carol planned to return to Riverview in two months. It was a decision that she and Daryl had made collectively when they figured it would take precisely that amount of time to get things organized back at home and make sure that going forward, everyone knew what their role was going to be in bringing Alexandria to greatness. Daryl nominated himself to resume his recruiting and scavenging efforts which completely terrified the shit out of her, but it was something that they needed to do, and there was simply no one who was more qualified to fulfill that role than her hubby.

Unfortunately this meant that they would be spending a good deal of time apart, but the sacrifice was well worth it in the opinion of both parties, when it was your son's future that you were doing it all for. It's not like they wouldn't see each other at all, but for the two months at-a-time where she would stay at Riverview in training, and Alexander along with her since the two were pretty much a package deal for the first year or so of his life, Daryl's visits would only be once a week for a weekend, current situation in Alexandria permitting. When her two months at Riverview was up she would return home for a month, a cycle that would be on repeat for as long as was necessary, but even then her and Xander's time with Daryl would still be limited for the fact that much of his work required him to be on the road for a good part of the day. Of course if she ever felt the need to sneak in some more quality time, she could always go out on a run with him being that there were plenty people at home with whom she could entrust the care of their son to, but the two of them heading out into potentially dangerous situations together was something they had decided to be a no-no now that they were a family.

This was all of course dependent on getting everyone on board, and once Carol was able to steer the conversation back into business mode, she and Daryl began the breakdown of their plan, with Rick and Michonne both giving the undivided attention that their carefully thought-out plan that was so full of heart deserved. When asked for their thoughts upon the conclusion, Michonne was the first to respond.

"I think it all sounds wonderful. Doctor Dixon, I like it. We could really use having one of those around, couldn't we, Rick?"

It was Rick who was wearing the goofy, I-know-something-you-don't-know grin now. "Yeah, yeah we sure could. We might have to ask you to tweak this schedule of yours a bit if you intend on actually being in Alexandria when the next baby is born though. Should be sometime in December."

Being that December was only seven months away, it became quite apparent immediately that this was more than just a what-if scenario being presented to her. Somebody at home was expecting, although she was quick to deduce that the person in question wasn't literally 'at home' at the moment, but rather seated in the car right alongside her.

"You mean to tell me we're gonna have ourselves another Little Ass-Kicker on our hands," Carol asked, receiving glassy-eyed nods from Michonne and Rick both in response which found them being enveloped into a group hug orchestrated perfectly right from her seat in between the couple.

"Nah, there's only one Li'l Ass-Kicker," Daryl was quick to admonish them. "Judith is the OG Li'l Ass-Kicker, so we gotta come up with new nicknames for these two. How 'bout this- for Xander, you know he can't be Li'l Ass-Kicker the second anymore, so I was thinkin' Chopper. And for baby Grimes, Slash. Whaddaya think?""

"I think these little ones are pretty much doomed to be known as Chopper and Slash for the rest of their lives. Daryl nicknames have the tendency to stick, little Chopper man," Michonne said as she tickled her honorary nephew's cheek with the tip of her finger. "I like it, it suits him well. Slash on the other hand-""

"Home sweet home," Daryl interrupted, as the car pulled to a stop before the gate, prompting Carol to lunge forward for a better view through the windshield of the place that was indeed quite a sight for her sore eyes. It was wonderful to be home, but as special at this particualr moment was, it was somehow less impactful considering that for the past twenty four hours, she'd already been feeling the effects of what is was truly like being at home anyways. After all, home was merely where your heart was, and considering that her heart was always with her family, all the home that she really needed, well the majority of it anyway, was right there with her in that car. Alexandria was merely the place where they were all most likely to convene, but if fate should ever force them away from that physical location, then as long as they remained together, home might one day be relocated somewhere else. But not as long as she had something to do with it. Alexandria was where she intended to stay, with so much determination that she named her son in honor of it to serve as a constant reminder of what she was fighting for.

Authors note: I'd originally planned on this being the last chapter, but I decided to do one more to give them the proper reunion with the rest of the family! Stay tuned for the conclusion, for this first part of the series anyway!


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

The car had barely made it's turn into the driveway of the Grimes house when Carl suddenly appeared on the porch at the top of the steps, revealing the likelihood that he'd been stationed at some window in the house playing look-out for sometime now in anticipation of their arrival. Carol could see him straining to identify all the passengers in the car, a task that was complicated by having only one eye to work with in the first place and the fact that the person's presence he sought happened to be buried in the back seat between his dad and Michonne, but he managed to single her out which she deduced from the huge grin spreading across his face, even before her wave would catch his attention. He began to slowly descend the steps, but when Judith went blowing by him in a race to the car, he picked up his pace in pursuit of his spry little sibling.

Judith won the race and was prying open the door which her father was stationed behind before the car could even come to a full stop. Unlike her big brother her sights were set on daddy who was equally eager enough to see his daughter that he managed to escape the car and scoop her up before she had the chance to climb in on his lap. This gave Carol the opportunity to scoot out behind him, aided by a hand from Carl which was immediately replaced with a great big bear hug once she was on her own two feet.

"Welcome home," he said with a voice that seemed to be a whole octave deeper than she remembered, probably due to the fact that he'd most definitely grown at least half a foot more since the last time she'd seen him.

"It's so wonderful to be home," she replied as she took a step back to study his face, with her hands perched on his somewhat broader shoulders, and found herself equally in awe over the presence of facial hair, leaving her wondering for a brief moment when in the hell their little boy suddenly became a man, physically speaking anyway. When you considered the question from a psychological standpoint, the answer would preceed the actual physical transformation by several years.

"We've all been so worried about you," he said, surely in reference to her absence, although his gaze was directed elsewhere as he spoke. When she craned her neck around to follow his line of sight, she found Daryl approaching the two of them with Alexander in his arms.

"Who is this," Carl asked as he briefly shifted his gaze back to Carol, before honing in on Daryl and the baby once more.

"This," Carol began as she gently pried a softly cooing Xander from Daryl, just long enough to relocate him into the arms of an unsuspecting Carl. "This little guy here is Alexander. Alexander Glenn Dixon."

"Dixon," Carl asked, momentarily reacting as if it were the most incredible thing he'd ever heard until he realized that really, it wasn't. A surprise, yes. Unbelievable? Not even close. He really didn't need the clarification that followed, but Carol was quick to spell it all out for him anyway.

"Yes, Dixon. He's my son." Throwing an arm around Daryl's waist that was reciprocated by an arm across her shoulders, she followed through with a more thorough response that was sure to eliminate any lingering doubt. "He's our son."

Just like with Rick and Michonne, the existence of Alexander alone for the most part answered pretty much every question in regards to her disappearance which gave them all the freedom to simply enjoy the long overdue reunion without having to go over all the who, what, where, when, why, and hows that were most definitely deserved by all who had spent the last several months worrying themselves sick over her well-being. Once they were all settled in back home, they would round up the rest of the crew for a similar introduction-slash-explanation, but for now Carol was just looking forward to a little R&R with those that she was closest with.

Apparently, someone had other plans because she just barely made it through the front door when she found herself nearly knocked to the ground by someone's ambush. For a brief second she had to consider using her knife until she realized that the arms thrown about her body were merely hugging her and not trying to strangle her to death, and that those arms belonged to Maggie.

"Carl sent Aaron up to tell us they were going to get you," Maggie's emotionally-charged voice explained as she squeezed Carol tight. "Jesus and Herschel and I came down right away."

"Hershel," Carol repeated, breaking away from the hug with a huge smile on her face as she scanned the room. Her eyes immediately found the location of the baby boy that she sought, currently in the arms of Jesus, but she also couldn't help but take notice of the several other occupants of the room: Aaron, Morgan, Tara, Enid, Eugene, Tobin, and straight from the Kingdom, Ezekiel and Jerry, all of whom were steadily closing in on her.

"As happy as I am to see you all, you'll have to excuse me until I get to hold this baby," she explained apologetically as she backed her way toward Jesus, then plucked little Herschel from his arms. The absolutely precious little boy had Glenn's eyes and dark hair like genetics had told her he would, but already she could see that he had inherited Maggie's broader jawline and shape of the mouth, making him a perfect fifty-fifty combo of his parents.

By this time, the rest of the crew had all made it inside, which awarded Carol some more Herschel time when the unexpected party guest in the form of baby Dixon diverted their attention away from her. All had received an approximate one minute warning that there would be a baby joining Carol and company from Enid, who had taken Carl's place at the window, but by the time they all crowded around to have a look for themselves and try to wrap their heads around where this little baby was coming from, the group who could provide the explanation was already inbound.

"Alright, would somebody please explain this," Maggie said as she admiringly stroked the head of the baby in Carl's arms.

"Well don't look at me, ask them two," Carl quipped back, giving two quick nods that drew a straight line connecting Carol and Daryl.

"Guilty," Daryl confessed as he joined Maggie's side in preparation to make the formal introductions, after a bit of beating around the bush. "Well, fifty percent anyway. The better half is standing right over there."

Maggie was already in tears at this point when she realized that the newest addition to their group was not only officially family, but also a product of one of the most beautiful relationships she had ever had the privilege of seeing blossom before her own eyes. Of course she had always known that there was more to Carol and Daryl than they let on, they all did, but finally getting to see some kind of proof of these assumptions had the tears flowing as they likely would have been upon the conclusion of a Nicholas Sparks movie marathon.

"His first name is Alexander, in honor of all of us," Daryl explained as he relieved Carl of baby duty and handed him off to Aunt Maggie for some quality time instead. "His middle name though comes from one of the coolest, bravest dudes I've ever known. Glenn."

"Glenn. Yeah, I like that name a whole lot," she said, smiling brightly behind the last few tears that she decided she would allow to fall. There was just something about hearing Glenn's name that never failed to give her strength, contrary to the effect that most people feared talking about her dearly departed might have on her. "He would be so honored. Glenn really thought the world of the two of you, and I know he's watching from up there somewhere, just tickled to death that Herschel's BFF is going to be your son."

"Yeah, I can see that happening," Carol chimed in as she joined them, still holding Xander's future BFF in her arms who happened to be preoccupied tugging on the collar of her shirt and attempting to feed it into his mouth.

"I am at Hilltop now you know. Not because-"

"They need you, I know," Carol cut her off abruptly to spare her the explanation that really wasn't necessary. "You're still a part of our family no matter where you are."

"Good, cuz I still need all of y'all too. My heart is still here, and I'm still going to be here a lot of the time. Jesus is taking on a lot of the responsibilities too so I have more time to split between here and there. We really are working hard to bring all of our communities closer together. The Kingdom and Oceanside too."

"I'm glad to hear it, and I was hoping you planned on sticking around for a couple of days cuz there is so much we all need to talk about."

Maggie nodded emphatically in response. "I think it's gonna take that long for me to ever let this baby go, so unless you're OK with me taking him back to Hilltop, it looks like I'm here for a while."

"Oh good, wonderful, glad to hear it," the familiar, perpetually jolly voice that could only belong to Jerry interrupted. "I'm glad you are all going to have a lot of time to catch up later on so you can stop hogging the guest of honor right now." Turning his full attention to Carol after receiving a mock scowl from Maggie, Jerry continued. "We're so glad you're back. I brought some of my famous 'Welcome Home Cobbler' for the celebration. If I had known about this cute little guy, I would have made the 'It's A Boy Cobbler' instead."

Carol was in the midst of a good chuckle when Ezekiel joined them. "Yes Carol, welcome home. Your presence has been missed greatly by all."

"Thank you, Ezekiel," she responded, taking note of the somewhat icy stare Daryl was receiving from the King at the moment with a mixture of both amusement and alarm. She wasn't born yesterday; she was well aware that Ezekiel had taken a liking to her, but until this moment, she truly hadn't realized just how much. But he wasn't the only one who was less-than-thrilled to get the memo that she and Daryl were now officially 'a thing.' Also shooting daggers at her hubby, although unbeknownst to her at the time: Tobin. "Let's have some of that cobbler, shall we," she finally suggested in effort to clear the air of the awkward vibe that had suddenly began to fill the room.

A little later on, after all the guests had filtered out to return to their respective homes, with the exception of Maggie and Herschel who were here to stay for at least the next few days, Carol left Rick in charge of watching over a sleeping Chopper and slipped outside to join Daryl who was perched on the top step of the porch, smoking a cigarette. She was about to pluck the smoke from the corner of his mouth and steal a drag until she remembered she was a nursing mother, a fact that was still unreal to her at times, and therefore declined.

"So much for having a quiet day back at home, huh," Daryl said with a huff as he exhaled the final puff before flicking the butt into the bushes surrounding the porch. With the cigarette out of the way, his hand was now free to come to a rest on Carol's thigh.

"I never thought I'd say this after missing everyone so much, but I've never been so happy to see them all go," she chuckled in response.

"Better run while we can, before somebody else shows up."

"My house or yours?"

"Yours is closer."

With Carol's nod in agreement, they both sprang from their seats as if someone had just lit a pack of firecrackers under their asses, and began their mad dash back inside Rick's house to say their goodbyes and collect their goods, giggling like a pair of teenagers as they raced to the door. Thankfully, for the most part the remaining crew were all equally exhausted and ready to turn in for the night themselves, sparing them from finding themselves engaged in further conversation with the exception of Rick, of course, who was just being Rick by yammering on and on about what topics should be discussed tomorrow. It was Michonne who had come to their rescue, by flatly telling Rick to shut up because they wanted to go home and his ramblings were nothing that couldn't wait until tomorrow.

"I got your back, girlfriend," Michonne had said to Carol with a wink, just before giving her a goodnight hug and escorting the entire Dixon family out the door.

It didn't take them long to get home as Carol's house was indeed much closer to Ricks, as in right next-door close. With Carol holding the baby and Daryl carrying the cradle that had been given to them as a parting gift from the Riverview crew, once inside, they made a direct bee line to her bedroom upstairs where Daryl carefully placed the cradle at the bedside, followed by Carol ever-so-gently lowering their sleeping boy into it.

She collapsed onto the edge of the bed where she hovered over him for a bit with elbows resting on her knees, and her chin perched atop the palm of her hand.

"I still can't believe he's really ours sometimes, you know," she murmered dreamily just as Daryl sat down beside her and began rubbing the small of her back.

"They don't call me sure-shot for nothin'," he replied somewhat proudly as he began to coax her back into a more upright position where he could maybe manage to divert her attention to him for a little bit instead.

"Oh really? How come I've never heard that nickname before?"

"Cuz I just made it up, just now," he replied with her favorite shy little boy grin. "I think it suits me well though, whadda you think?"

She thought quietly for a moment before choosing her response carefully. There were multiple answers to his query, but as was typical, she chose the witty comeback. "Well, I really can't find any argument with that, but if you intend to keep on livin' up to your name, then you better go find us a case of condoms, Sure-shot."

"A case, huh? I like the way you think," he informed her more intimately, pressing his lips to her ear as he whispered the reply.

"Well, you got three weeks to find one, so happy hunting," she said as she squirmed away in a desperate attempt to reverse the sudden onset of escalating desire that she was forbidden to fulfill for the remaining time period, especially after taking note that he was equally aroused. Just her damn luck.

"I know, and I promise for the next three weeks I will be on my best behavior," he said as he threw up a hand as if taking oath. "But we can still do this-." He chose the demonstration method to explain by pulling her into a kiss that turned into a solid two-hour make-out session that ended with the two of them lying naked beneath the covers, wrapped in each other's arms.

At this point it no longer mattered To Carol that they couldn't go all the way. Sure, her lady parts were still throbbing for more, but that in itself was something that she hadn't experienced in a very long time with an actual living, breathing partner. The last time she could remember feeling anything even close to the euphoria she was feeling now was her first time with Ed, but she had learned soon enough after their first encounter that what she had initially thought to be Ed's 'unbridled passion' for her; the hair-pulling, the total domination of her every movement, was on the brink of turning into something much more terrifying, beyond the mere 'bedroom antics' she had convinced herself it was all that it was.

Dating way back to before Sophia was conceived, sex with Ed was voluntary only for the simple fact that it was much smarter for her to comply than deny him and find herself making another trip to the ER; a lesson that had taken her four incidents to learn. If there had been a fifth, she was pretty sure that the eight days she ended up spending in the hospital the last time would at the very least double in duration as had been the case with the previous occasions, and that was assuming that she would even survive the next attack in the first place.

She hadn't been joking that day when she confessed to Andrea and the other girls that she missed her vibrator too. It had become her only source of pleasure for years, and for years it had been enough when she had resigned herself to the belief that what she truly desired only existed in fantasy to begin with. Now, here she was, lying in the arms of a man who made her feel as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, inside and out, and that was regardless of whether or not he was just looking to get some. But when he was, he also made her feel downright sexy too, and that for her was most definitely a first.

She drifted off to sleep while watching Alexander slumber in his cradle with Daryl's head resting on her shoulder as he snuggled her from behind, feeling content in a way that she never imagined she would again. It was this it's-just-too-good-to-be-true realization that began the spawn of the nightly nightmares in which each one Daryl, their son, or both managed to find themselves getting killed in some horrific manner while she was helpless to do anything but watch.

The first one on that same night had been a doozy. In the dream, a walker had managed to get into the house and snatch Alexander from his cradle for a midnight snack. Naturally, when she awoke the first thing she did was check on her little boy. She was certain she would find him safe in his bed, but when he was gone, she screamed for Daryl.

She heard the familiar sound of his boots come bounding up the stairs, and within seconds, he was back in their bedroom, fully dressed, with Alexander in his arms.

"What's wrong," he said as he immediately pulled her into an embrace.

"Nothing," she said with a sigh of relief as she caressed the head of her baby boy. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just had a bad dream."

"You too, huh?"

Carol nodded. "Well, you know what they say. If it seems too good to be true, it probably is."

"Yup. That's why we gotta stay one step ahead of whatever shit is out there waiting for us next."

Carol now understood why Daryl had gotten up and dressed. He was on guard, just because somebody always had to be, and that somebody traditionally was none other than himself.

What she didn't know however is that an hour or so before she had been rudely awakened from her nightmare, Daryl had slipped out of the house and down the street back to what would now be his former house, after the aforementioned disturbing dream of his own. Like Carol's, it was merely the first of many more to come, but what differentiated his particular dream pattern from hers was the fact that every night the nightmare was the same.

He comes home from a run to find Alexandria in ruins. Houses are ablaze, people, and not just nameless, faceless ones...Rick, Michonne, Carl...lie dead in the streets. He rushes home to find his wife and son, and before he can make it upstairs to investigate, he hears the whistle coming from their bedroom. Carol and his son are there, but so is a horde of armed men and women, standing behind the man with the bat named Lucille himself. Even worse than being restrained by Negan's army, he finds himself unable to do a thing for fear of doing the wrong thing, and is self-paralyzed as Negan gleefully unfolds his intentions to steal his child and dispose of his wife. Thankfully, he at least managed to wake himself up before the first swing of the bat ever makes contact with her head.

Not gonna happen, he vowed as entered his old garage from the inside, so that the opening noise of the exterior door would not awaken anyone and draw attention. Once inside, he pulled down the ladder to access the overhead storage, and ventured up to verify the location of his hidden treasure, hidden beneath one of the floorboards. There it remained, wrapped in the sheet just as he'd left it before running off to find Carol.

His hands trembled as he carefully unwrapped the beastly thing and exposed it to light once more. The sight of it disgusted him, but the fantasy of what he was going to do with it once he successfully hunted down it's former owner brought a grin to his face he imagined made him look something like Jack Nicholson in the Shining, when his character with the same first name as his portrayer finally goes cuckoo for cocoa puffs. If that picture wasn't frightening enough, now imagine the look on his face as he smiles upon what is left of Negan's head after being beat to death at his own hands, using Negan's very own beloved Lucille.

He hated that he would by lying to Carol, or at least that he was not going to be entirely, one hundred percent truthful when accounting his scavenging or recruiting activities, but if she had any clue at all that he was out there looking for Negan, not only would she object for safety purposes and make sure that everyone was onto him to the point where he was being watched over like he was in daycare, she likely would never sleep again, and he couldn't have that. All he wanted was for his family to be safe and secure and happy, and as long as there were people like Negan roaming free, that dream would be forever threatened. Negan was still out there, that was fact, and just like in the old Mario games he and Merle used to play on their Nintendo as kids, in order to advance to the next, more formidable opponents that awaited, and they were out there, he must first defeat the current monster once and for all.

Authors note: This concludes this story! Thanks to all who have read through it's entirety! Stay tuned for the sequel tentatively titled "The Woe of The Aftermath" coming soon!


End file.
